The lanterns cast long shadows across the church walls.
Most of the group was bedding down, but in the corner, the leaders huddled close... their voices low, urgent.
Joe leaned forward over the table, his eyes hard. "Hospital's got power, uniforms, numbers. Walkin' in the front door ain't an option. We need leverage."
Rick nodded, arms crossed. "We lure out a few of their officers. Take them alive. Trade them back for Beth and Carol."
Daryl shifted, wincing from his bandaged side but refusing to sit still. "They ain't gonna give up easy. Gotta hit 'em clean, fast. If they smell a trap, Carol and Beth..."
Joe's hand rested on the hilt of his katana, his voice steady. "Then we make sure they don't see it comin'."
From the back, two figures stepped forward. Lee, arms folded, his face lit grim with purpose. Kenny, his jaw tight, hand resting on the butt of his pistol.
"We heard what you said earlier," Lee started. "About the hospital. If our people are in there, then it ain't just your fight. We've lost too many already. We're in."
Kenny nodded sharply. "Damn right. I know how to run an ambush. You'll want me on this."
Daryl looked them both over, then gave a short nod. "Fine. But if you're in, you follow orders. No hero shit."
Joe smirked faintly. "I like 'em already."
Rick pulled a piece of scrap paper and started sketching the rough layout Daryl had described. "Alright. We bait them into the open. Maybe fake an injured man in the street. They come to investigate. That's when we take 'em."
Lee leaned in, pointing. "We'll need two shooters on overwatch. The rest move in quick once they're close enough."
Kenny cracked his knuckles. "You get me in the right spot, I'll drop 'em clean."
Joe tapped the table with his knife, eyes flashing. "Remember. We need 'em breathing if we're gonna trade."
Rick looked around the circle.
Joe, Daryl, Lee, Kenny. All faces set, grim and resolved.
"Then it's settled," Rick said. "We go in quiet. Bring a couple of their cops down, make the trade. Beth and Carol come home."
The weight of it settled over them. No one smiled. No one flinched.
This wasn't just another supply run.
This was a rescue mission.
...
The hum of fluorescent lights filled the halls of Grady Memorial.
Too bright. Too clean.
Beth carried a tray of linens past the nurse's station, the eyes of a uniformed officer following her every step.
That's when she froze.
Carol.
Lying pale and bandaged on a gurney, two orderlies wheeling her past.
Beth's heart lurched, her lips parting. She almost cried out, but she caught herself.
The officer was watching.
Beth snapped her gaze forward, forcing her face blank. Her pulse thundered in her ears, but she kept walking.
…
Hours later, when the halls were finally quiet, Beth slipped into the darkened infirmary.
A dim bulb cast a yellow glow across the room. Carol was propped weakly against the mattress, her eyes half-lidded but awake.
Their gazes locked.
Beth rushed forward, her voice a whisper. "It's really you."
Carol reached for her hand, squeezing tight. "Beth."
Beth's chest heaved. She blinked back tears, but a smile tugged at her lips. "I thought you were gone. After the prison... I didn't know what happened to anybody."
Carol's smile was faint, tired, but real. "We made it out. Rick. Daryl. The others. They're alive."
Beth's breath caught. "Maggie... she's okay?"
Carol nodded. "Safe. She's with us."
Beth's eyes welled. She leaned closer, voice trembling. "And… Joe? He's alive?"
Carol studied her for a moment, surprised by the urgency in Beth's tone. "He's alive. Stronger than ever."
Beth swallowed hard, a tiny smile forming. "Good. I kept… I kept hopin' he'd be okay. Even when it didn't make sense."
Carol squeezed her hand again, her voice quiet but firm. "He's out there now. Daryl too. They'll come for us. All we have to do is hold on."
Beth nodded, holding onto her hand like a lifeline. For the first time in days, something other than fear flickered in her chest.
Hope.
...
Morning at Grady Memorial smelled of antiseptic and old rot.
The halls buzzed faintly with the hum of the generators, lights flickering under the strain.
Beth moved carefully, her tray of supplies clutched in both hands. She tried to keep her head down, but her eyes never stopped watching.
At the far end of the hallway, raised voices cut through the quiet.
Dawn.
She stood at the nurse's station in her crisp uniform, her posture rigid, eyes sharp. Two officers flanked her like vultures.
Across from her, a young orderly hunched in shame, lip split, blood dripping onto his shirt.
"You think you get to eat more than you work for?" Dawn's voice was sharp, cold.
"You think resources just appear out of thin air? You take, you pay it back. That's the deal. Always has been."
The orderly mumbled something about being hungry.
Dawn's expression didn't soften. She tilted her head toward one of her officers. "Teach him a lesson."
The officer grinned and struck the man hard across the face, sending him sprawling. Dawn didn't flinch, didn't blink.
Beth froze in place, her stomach twisting.
From her bed in the infirmary doorway, Carol shifted weakly, watching too. Her eyes narrowed, lips pressed tight.
Dawn's gaze swept the hall until it fell on Beth. "What are you staring at?"
Beth swallowed hard, forcing her voice steady. "Nothing."
Dawn stepped closer, her heels clicking against the tile. Her tone turned sharp, patronizing.
"You're here because we saved you. Every piece of food you eat, every bandage we used to save you. It all comes at a cost. You'll pay it back. All of you will."
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Don't forget it."
Beth's jaw tightened, but she nodded, eyes cast down.
Dawn straightened, smoothing her uniform, addressing the hall at large. "This hospital stands because of discipline. Because I keep it standing. Without me, this place falls. Don't ever forget who holds everythinh we have here together."
The orderly groaned from the floor, blood pooling beneath his chin. Dawn stepped over him without a second glance, disappearing into her office.
Beth stood frozen, the tray trembling in her hands.
Carol's voice broke the silence, soft but laced with steel. "That woman's rotten. Don't let her break you."
Beth looked back at her, resolve flickering in her eyes. "She won't."
But inside, she was already planning.
...
Atlanta felt like stepping into a beast's mouth. Dead quiet, waiting to swallow them whole.
Joe's group moved through the wreckage like shadows, weaving past burnt-out cars and hollow storefronts.
Every window seemed to watch, every corner felt like it hid teeth.
They reached the open lot. Cracked pavement stretched wide, dotted with weeds and rusted hulks. This was it... their trap.
Daryl lowered himself flat near a busted chain-link fence, crossbow steady. His cheek pressed against the warm metal, eyes sharp despite the throb in his bandaged side.
Joe and Rick slipped into the shadows of crumbling concrete columns, crouched low, rifles ready.
The two of them exchanged a brief nod, a silent agreement.
Above them, Lee and Kenny crawled into position, rifles braced against old HVAC units on nearby rooftops, angles clean.
Rick crouched, checked the street, then raised his rifle skyward.
Two sharp cracks split the air.
BANG! BANG!
The sound ripped through the silent city, echoing off the empty towers. Pigeons burst from a ledge, scattering into the sky.
Then nothing. Just the ringing silence that followed gunfire.
Joe's hand tightened around his Glock, his breathing steady. "That'll do it," he muttered.
Daryl didn't move, eyes locked down the street. He could already hear it... the faint crunch of boots, the distant murmur of voices.
From above, Kenny whispered into the quiet, "We got movement."
Shadows began to stretch down the block. Uniforms. Glock 17's.
Grady's officers were coming to check it out, their footsteps echoed down the cracked asphalt.
Three Grady officers appeared at the far end of the street, pistols raised, flashlights cutting through the mist.
One barked something about "keeping it tight" as they swept between abandoned cars.
They never saw it coming.
A bolt whistled out of the shadows.
Thwip!
Slamming into the lead officer's thigh. He went down screaming, his weapon clattering to the ground.
The second spun, barking orders, but Rick stepped out from cover, rifle aimed dead center. "Drop it!"
The man hesitated a split second too long.
CRACK!
Kenny's rifle barked from above, shattering the pavement inches from his boot.
He froze, hands flying up.
The third officer bolted for cover... but Joe was already moving.
He surged from the shadows, katana flashing. A quick slash sent the man's rifle spinning from his hands.
Before he could recover, Joe slammed him against a concrete column, Glock pressed under his chin.
"Stay still," Joe growled, his voice like stone. "Or you're dead."
The officer swallowed hard, trembling.
Within seconds, it was over. Two were disarmed and bound, forced to their knees in the lot.
The third, writhed on the ground, cursing through clenched teeth.
Daryl yanked his bolt free, ignoring the man's scream. "Don't be a pussy." Daryl bound the man's arms.
Joe crouched in front of the captives, cold and calm. "You're gonna call your people. You're gonna tell them we've got you, and if they want you back, they bring Beth and Carol. Alive. Unharmed."
One of the officers spat blood, sneering. "They'll never..."
CRACK!
Joe's fist snapped his head sideways, teeth clattering to the pavement. Joe grabbed him by the collar, hauling him upright.
"They'll listen. Or I start sending back pieces. First your fingers. Then your eyes."
The second officer nodded frantically, fear spilling out. "Alright! Alright! I'll call 'em."
Rick's gaze flicked up toward Lee and Kenny on the rooftops, then to Daryl watching with his crossbow steady. Finally, to Joe, whose knuckles were still dripping blood.
The trap had sprung.
And now the hospital would have to make a deal.
...
The hospital buzzed with nervous energy. Beth sat stiffly on Carol's bed, both of them staring at the officer clutching the radio.
Static crackled, followed by Joe's calm voice announcing what had just happened.
"We've got three of yours. You want 'em back, you bring Beth and Carol. Alive."
Beth's chest lifted, her eyes shining. For the first time since she woke up in this place, escape felt close.
Carol squeezed her hand weakly, sharing the same thought, "We're getting out."
Then Dawn stepped into the room. Her uniform was crisp, her expression cold, almost bored.
She took the radio, her eyes sweeping across Beth and Carol like they were nothing more than items in storage.
"They're not going anywhere," she said flatly. "They owe us. Everything they have, everything they are, belongs here until I say otherwise."
Beth's mouth dropped, disbelief curdling into anger. "You're gonna let them die? Just because of your rules?"
Dawn's jaw twitched, but before she could respond, Joe's voice came low and steady through the radio. Calm, but dripping with menace.
"You'll regret it."
Beth turned her gaze on Dawn, eyes burning. "He's right. You will."
SMACK!
The slap cracked across Beth's cheek, her head snapping sideways. She tasted blood, a bruise already swelling.
The radio, still live, carried every sound.
The slap, Beth's sharp breath, Dawn's hiss of authority.
And then, three sharp gunshots thundered from the other end.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The static crackled again.
Joe's voice returned, low and demonic, echoing like something inhuman.
"You're next."
Every officer in the room stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances. The threat lingered in the air, heavier than the gunpowder.
Dr. Stevens, pale, finally spoke, his voice trembling. "Why wouldn't you just… give them back? Whoever's on the other side doesn't sound like they're playing around."
Dawn's head snapped toward him, her eyes blazing. "Who are you to question me? Get back to work!"
The doctor lowered his gaze, swallowing hard.
Beth pressed her hand to her burning cheek, her eyes locked on Dawn with hate.
She wasn't afraid of her.
She wanted Dawn to feel what Joe had just promised.
...
The air in Grady Memorial was different now.
The gunshots still echoed in everyone's heads, even after the radio had gone silent.
Three sharp cracks that carried a message louder than words.
Someone was out there, and he wasn't bluffing.
The staff whispered in corners, their eyes darting to closed doors and shadowed hallways.
Patients leaned close on their bunks, voices low but urgent.
"Three of ours… just like that."
"Over her? Over a slap?"
"If they're willing to kill three for a slap, what happens if Dawn pushes harder?"
Beth could hear them from Carol's room, fragments drifting down the hall.
In the break room, two orderlies argued in hushed voices. "Dawn says we're safe because she makes the rules. But what if she's the reason we're targets now? What if keeping her in charge gets us all killed?"
A nurse shook her head quickly, glancing over her shoulder. "Keep your voice down. You want her to hear that?"
In the mess hall, one of the older patients muttered, "When we came here, it was supposed to be salvation. But its not, its a death sentence."
Everywhere, the unease spread. Officers tightened their patrols, but their faces betrayed fear.
The facade of control Dawn wore like armor was showing cracks and her people saw it.
Even Dr. Stevens, usually quiet, dared to speak to a colleague in a corner. "We were supposed to keep people alive. Now we're holding them like hostages. If there's someone out there willing to burn this place to the ground just to save two, maybe… maybe it'd be better to join them."
The nurse he spoke to shushed him quickly, eyes flicking to the camera above them.
But the whispers didn't stop.
For the first time since the fall, people were asking the question out loud.
Was Dawn actually keeping them safe? Or was she the reason they were all in danger?