The two strangers walked through the bar like they owned it.
Rick and Joe didn't flinch. They watched calmly.
Rick poured two drinks without a word. Joe leaned on the bar, eyes locked on the newcomers.
Hershel stood nearby, tense. These guys gave off a bad vibe... mean mugging, loud energy. Not the kind he welcomed.
One of them stepped forward. "Name's Dave. That scrawny douchebag is Fat Tony."
Tony grunted. "Eat me."
Dave chuckled. "Maybe one day, I will. We met outside Philly. What a shitshow."
"Rick Grimes."
"Joe."
Dave nodded, then pointed to Hershel. "How about you, pal? Drink?"
Hershel shook his head. "Just quit."
Dave raised an eyebrow. "Funny sense of timing."
Joe cut in. "He lost people today."
Dave's tone shifted. "I'm truly sorry. To better days... and to our dead. May they be in a better place."
They raised their glasses and knocked back the shots.
Dave leaned closer. Rick's eyes dropped to the pistol at Dave's side.
"Nice piece, huh?" Dave said. "Got it off a cop."
"I'm a cop," Rick replied.
Dave smiled. "This one was already dead." He exchanged a look with Tony.
"You're a long way from Philly," Joe said.
Tony shrugged. "Long way from anywhere."
"What brings you south?" Rick asked.
Dave smirked. "Sure ain't the weather. I think I lost thirty pounds in sweat."
Tony muttered, "I wish."
"We were headed to D.C. Heard about a refugee camp. Then the roads got jammed. Ran into other groups... each had a different story. One swore there's a train in Montgomery taking people to Nebraska."
Hershel raised an eyebrow. "Why Nebraska?"
Tony said, "Small population. Lots of guns."
Hershel nodded. "Makes sense."
Dave grinned. "Ever been, gramps? There's a reason they call it a flyover state."
Tony laughed.
Joe watched closely. Something shifted in their posture. Less casual. More... calculated.
Dave glanced around. "What about you guys?"
"Fort Benning, eventually" Rick said.
Dave sighed. "Hate to piss in your cornflakes, but that place is burned to the ground."
Rick exhaled. Looked at Joe.
Dave leaned back. "Truth is, there's no way out of this mess."
Silence fell.
Dave glanced around again. "You guys holed up somewhere?"
Joe's eyes narrowed. "What's it to you?"
Tony perked up.
"Just making conversation," Dave said with a smirk.
Hershel, against better judgment, spoke. "We're with a group. Out scavenging."
Joe looked at Hershel.
Dave's eyes lit up. "Is it safe around here?"
Rick shrugged. "Same as anywhere."
"On the outskirts maybe?" Tony asked, walking to a corner post and unzipping his trousers. "New development?"
He pissed on the floor.
Dave grinned. "A farm maybe? Old McDonald…"
Joe turned to Hershel. "We've said enough."
Dave looked hurt. "I thought we were friends."
Rick cut in. "We don't know you."
Dave's voice dropped. "You're right. You don't know us. The things we've had to do."
Joe chuckled coldly. "We ain't taking you in. You can fuck right off."
Tony snapped. "What'd you say, Scarface?"
Dave raised a calming hand. "Let's chill. Maybe check out this farm…"
"Not happening," Rick said firmly.
Tony scoffed. "This is bullshit!"
Dave shouted, "Calm down! What do you want us to do?"
Rick smirked. "I don't know... I hear Nebraska's nice."
Dave laughed. For a second.
Tony shouted, "Okay, this is over!" and started to raise his shotgun.
Joe smiled. "You're right."
He pulled his Glock and put a bullet through Tony's ugly face.
Dave barely moved before Rick's shot hit him square in the chest. He dropped.
Joe walked over to the gasping Dave. Calmly double-tapped him, before walking to Tony corpse.
Hershel stood frozen, staring.
Joe didn't look at him. He picked up Tony's shotgun, checking the rounds.
---
Back at the farm, the bodies from the barn were laid in a large pile. Annette, Shawn and Mary's brother being buried by Daryl and Glenn.
T-Dog lit the torch and tossed it. Flames swallowed the bodies. They burned quickly, reducing to ash in minutes.
...
Rick pried the pistol from Dave's hand and checked the mag. Full.
Hershel stared at him and Joe, stunned. After a long beat, he nodded. He understood.
It was us or them.
"Let's get out of here," he said.
Rick and Joe nodded. Joe grabbed a half-full bottle of rum from behind the bar and took a long swig.
He chuckled. "Scarface. I like it."
Rick cracked a smile. Hershel just shook his head.
As Hershel reached for the door, Joe raised a hand, stooping him. "Car."
Headlights bled through the curtains.
The three ducked for cover. Doors slammed outside.
Joe didn't hesitate. He raised his rifle and opened fire through the window.
Rick followed. Bullets tore into the shadows outside.
Joe burst through the door, taking a graze to the arm but barely slowing down.
He fired up toward the roof and saw figures scrambling to escape. One slipped on the way down.
A scream cut through the air like a knife.
The others bolted, leaving the fallen one behind.
Rick hesitated, then sprinted toward the scream.
Joe shouted, "Rick! Leave him! He just tried to kill us!"
Hershel stayed back, silent.
Rick didn't stop. He found the kid...
Seventeen maybe, impaled through the thigh on a steel fence. Blood everywhere.
Walkers already closing in.
Joe cursed, laid down cover fire. Headshot after headshot. But every shot drew more in.
Rick and Hershel worked fast, lifting the kid, Randall, off the fence. Flesh tore. Randall screamed, then blacked out.
Joe yelled, "We gotta move! Now!"
Rick and Hershel dragged Randall toward the trucks. Joe cleared a path with Fat Tony's shotgun, emptying shells into walkers.
They loaded Randall into the back of a truck. Rick blindfolded him, then climbed in.
Joe and Hershel hit the gas, lights off, tearing out of town without a look back.
---
The trucks skidded to a stop in front of the house. People rushed out to see what was going on.
Joe hauled Randall's limp body out and made straight for the barn.
Rick and Hershel followed.
"I need to treat him," Hershel said.
Joe scoffed. "Do it in the barn."
Rick said, "He's unconscious."
Joe's voice was flat. "He shot at us. One of his crew hit me."
Rick hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. We keep him here."
Hershel exhaled and followed. Joe tied Randall to a support beam. Tight.
Then he walked off toward the house. The crowd parted. Beth was still holding it together. Amy followed Joe inside.
In the bathroom, Joe peeled off his bloody shirt and dropped it. Amy's face went pale.
She staggered, Joe caught her and sat her on the toilet.
"Maggie! Need a hand in here!"
Maggie and Andrea rushed in. Andrea crouched beside Amy while Maggie grabbed towels, peroxide, a needle, and thread.
She cleaned the wound fast and stitched it up tight. Joe gritted his teeth but didn't flinch.
He reached over and squeezed Amy's hand. She gave him a weak smile.
Andrea kept her steady.
Bandaged and done, Joe stood and lifted Amy into his arms. He carried her to the living room and laid her on the couch.
The others were already gathered. Rick was explaining everything.
Hershel wasn't there. Still in the barn.
The room was heavy with tension. Rick stood near the fireplace, explaining how it went down.
The bodies. The firefight. Randall.
Maggie knelt beside Amy, checking her pulse and wiping the sweat from her forehead. Andrea hovered nearby, arms crossed, still on edge.
Daryl stepped forward. "You brought one of 'em back?"
Rick nodded. "He's just a kid. Maybe seventeen."
Daryl's voice dropped. "Don't matter. He was with the ones that tried to kill us."
Carol spoke up, voice shaky. "But if he's just a kid—"
Joe cut her off. "A kid with a gun. I got shot because of him. That gonna matter when he comes back with friends?"
"We blindfolded him," Rick said. "He doesn't know where we are."
Joe scoffed. "You really believe that?"
T-Dog added, "Gunshots in the night. Trucks coming and going. They might not know exactly, but they'll have a good guess."
Rick paced. "We needed to get him off that fence. We leave him, walkers tear him apart."
"And now we've got a liability tied up in the barn," Daryl said.
A tense silence followed.
Glenn stepped forward. "So what's the plan?"
Rick looked to Joe. Then to the rest. "We keep him alive. For now."
Daryl shook his head. "You keep sayin' that like it don't mean somethin'. What happens after 'for now'?"
Rick didn't answer.
From the hallway, Carl's voice called out. "Dad?"
Rick turned. Carl stood there, eyes wide, trying to understand everything at once. Lori stepped in behind him, hand on his shoulder.
Rick walked over and crouched. "Go back to bed, bud."
Carl stared at him. "Is he dangerous?"
Rick hesitated then said. "We're watching him."
Carl nodded, slowly, and Lori guided him away.
Joe grabbed his stitched-up arm and winced. "I need rest. We all do."
He glanced back at Amy. She was still pale but starting to recover. The stress of seeing him hurt had taken a toll on her.
Joe picked her up, Andrea following to the tent. They cuddled together for a short while before sleep overtook them.
...
Hershel crouched beside Randall, checking the leg wound. Still unconscious. Breathing ragged.
He soaked a cloth in alcohol and cleaned what he could. The kid groaned but didn't wake.
The barn creaked with the weight of the night. In the corner, a few remaining walkers banged against the reinforced pen.
Hershel didn't look at them.
He tied a clean bandage around Randall's thigh and stood.
He looked at the boy. Just a kid, wrapped up in the wrong world... He shook his head.
Outside, a figure watched from the treeline.
Motionless. Observing.
...
The moon hung low. Shadows stretched across the clearing in front of the barn.
A figure stands still beneath the trees. Cloaked in shadow, unmoving, silent.
She steps forward. A katana strapped across her back. Dreadlocks catching moonlight. Face unreadable.
It's Michonne.
She crouches, watching the barn. Watching the people moving in and out.
Her eyes scan the property... every fence, every light, every face.
She doesn't blink.
Her fingers rest gently on her blade.
...
Rick steps out, scanning the horizon. Feels something, but he can't see it.
Michonne watches from the dark. Then, silently slips away into the woods.
...
Sophia slipped inside the barn. It was quiet. Randall, still tied up, looked broken. His head down, breathing shallow.
She steps closer, holding a canteen. He moans.
"You need water?" she whispers.
He nods slowly, eyes barely open. "Please."
She leans forward, unscrewing the cap. That's when he moves.
Fast. Too fast for someone that wounded.
He grabs her, twisting her arm behind her back.
"Don't scream," he hisses. "I'm not gonna hurt you if you just walk."
Sophia whimpers, too scared to fight.
Randall slices the rope binding his ankle. He drags her toward the rear exit of the barn, keeping low and silent.
---
Randall stumbles through the brush, dragging Sophia with him. She tries to slow him down, to resist, but he grips her hard.
"We're almost out," he pants. "Ill let you go. You're gonna be fine."
From the trees...
A flash of movement.
THUNK!
A throwing spike buries itself in the tree next to Randall's head.
He spins, panicked. "Who's there?!"
Silence.
Another whisper of movement behind him... too fast to track.
Randall whirls.
And Michonne steps from the shadows.
No words. Just presence.
Her katana is already drawn.
"Let the girl go," she says, voice low, calm.
Randall lifts the knife to Sophia's throat.
"Back off! I'll do it!"
Sophia's eyes fill with tears.
Michonne takes one step closer.
"I said back off!"
Randall folds as Sophia had elbowed him in the nuts.
Michonne didnt hesitate..
In two heartbeats she closes the distance. The blade arcs through the air.
Slash!
Randall's knife is gone. His hand... cut off.
He falls back. Staring at his stump in shock.
Michonne grabs Sophia and spins her behind, shielding her with her body.
Randall screams as the shock wore off.
Michonne steps closer.
Randall crawls backward, bleeding profusely. "Wait... please, don't..."
THWACK!
The katana's hilt cracks into his skull. He drops.
Michonne stands still. Sword angled. Breath calm.
Sophia clutches her arm, shaken.
"You okay?" Michonne asks.
Sophia nods.
"Come on. Let's get you back."
---
Rick, Daryl, Joe, and T-Dog heard the scream. Rushing in that direction, towards the fence.
From the woods, rustling.
Rick lifts his rifle.
Then they see her.
A dark skinned woman in a long coat, katana over her shoulder.
Beside her... Sophia.
Alive. Safe.
Everyone freezes.
The woman stops just outside the fence. Dropping Randall to the ground.
No one speaks.
T-dog breaks the silence. "The hell…?"
Daryl steps forward, cautious. "You okay, sweetheart?"
Sophia nods, rushing towards him..
Rick looks up. "Who are you?"
Michonne's face is blank. Eyes scanning all of them.
She turns and takes a step back toward the trees.
"Wait," Rick says. "You saved her."
Michonne doesn't answer. She just kept walking.
Joe mutters, "What was that?"
Rick watches the trees for a long moment.
"I don't know," he says. "But we owe her. Big time."