Dawn stormed down the hallway, fury written on her face. Every whisper she overheard only stoked it hotter.
She would remind them all who kept Grady standing. Who gave the orders.
She was heading straight for Beth's room when...
RATATATATATA!
Automatic fire split the morning air, rattling every window in the hospital.
People screamed, rushing to the glass. Officers scrambled, shouting for order. But what they saw froze them all in place.
Five men stood in the square outside, spread out in formation. Cold faces. Steely eyes.
Muzzles of their rifles still smoking. And at their center, stood Joe.
His voice thundered through the courtyard.
"You give me Beth and Carol… or I kill every man, woman, and child in that building. You hand them over, and we disappear. I'll allow you to live. Make your choice swiftly."
He pulled a small timer from his pocket, twisted the dial, and set it on the cracked pavement. Five minutes. The beeping echoed up through the hospital walls.
Inside, panic erupted. Staff pressed back from the windows, patients screamed, even officers hesitated.
Someone shouted, "We can't fight that! Not for her!"
Dr. Stevens, trembling, turned on Dawn. "He's not bluffing. We'll all die because of your pride!"
Others joined in. Nurses, orderlies, even an officer or two. "Give them up!" "We're not dying for this!" "Enough, Dawn!"
For the first time, Dawn's confidence faltered. Her grip on her Glock tightened, but she saw it... the eyes of her people.
They weren't hers anymore.
Teeth clenched, she snapped. "Fine."
Minutes later, the hospital doors opened. Dawn marched at the head, jaw locked, Beth and Carol forced in front of her.
A small cluster of armed officers followed, eyes wary.
They stepped into the square just as the timer hit zero.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Joe lifted his hand, calling Beth and Carol forward. His voice was calm, commanding. "Come."
Beth's eyes never left Dawn's. She smirked faintly. "Goodbye, Dawn."
That was the breaking point.
Dawn's face twisted, fury boiling over. She yanked up her Glock, aiming at Beth's head...
BRRRAP!
Joe's rifle roared, ripping through her body.
Bullets tore her chest apart, shredded her face, dropping her before she even fired a shot.
She collapsed in the courtyard, twitching once before going still. But he didn't stop firing, turning her corpse into just a pile of minced meat, resembling a body.
Gasps and screams echoed across the square. The Grady officers raised their weapons, but Rick and the others were already covering them, barrels steady.
Joe's voice cut the air, sharp as a blade. "Shoot, and we tear through you all."
For a long, tense moment, the standoff held. Then Amanda, one of Dawn's lieutenants, lifted her hand. "Stop. Lower them."
Reluctantly, the officers obeyed.
Beth crashed into Joe's chest, her arms locking around him. He held her tight, her kiss tender, desperate, tasting of tears.
She pulled back, whispering fiercely, "Some of them are trapped. Forced to stay here."
Joe's eyes narrowed. He looked past her, scanning the faces behind Dawn's fallen body. Then he nodded once.
"Anyone who wants to leave, come now. You're welcome in my group."
For a long beat, no one moved. Too fearful of his display.
Then, from the crowd, a young black man limped forward... Noah. He rushed to Beth's side, standing tall though his frame was thin.
No one else followed.
Joe nodded to his crew. "We're done here."
Slowly, rifles still trained, they backed away from the hospital steps. The Grady staff left the pile of minced meat, that was once Dawn's body to rot.
The heavy doors closing behind them.
The square grew silent.
And Beth, her hand still tight in Joe's, knew she was finally free.
...
The bus sputtered, belching smoke, and shuddered to a dead stop on the cracked highway. Everyone piled out, hacking through the fumes.
Rosita slammed the door shut behind her. "Well, that's that. She's done."
Abraham kicked the tire hard enough to rattle the frame. His jaw flexed, his face red. "Fifteen miles to the nearest town. We walk."
That's when the walkers pushed out of the tree line, dozens of them, staggering towards them.
Not enough to demand gunfire, but more than a nuisance. The group fell into motion, cutting through the herd with grim efficiency.
Eugene froze behind them, wide-eyed, trembling.
A walker lurched up on Carly from behind. Eugene's breath caught.
He moved, stabbing the walker in the neck, stopping it short but not finishing it. Carly spun, furious, and drove her blade through its skull.
The last walker fell. Everyone exhaled. Abraham barked, "Rosita... check him."
"I'm fine," Eugene stammered.
"Check him!" Abraham's voice cracked like a whip.
Rosita pushed herself up, brushing dirt off, and went to Eugene. Her eyes scanned him for bites. Nothing.
Eugene's gaze flicked to Abraham's bloody knuckles. "That yours?"
Abraham let out a low laugh. "Yeah. Cuts are thinner than hair, but they bleed like hell."
Tara slung her pack over her shoulder. "I'll grab the rest of the supplies."
She hadn't gone five steps before the bus exploded, flames ripping through it. The blast echoing down the empty highway. Fire swallowed their ride whole.
Everyone whipped around, stunned. Doug swore. "Goddamn it!"
Abraham didn't flinch. "We move!"
Eugene wrung his hands. "We… we should go back. Regroup at the church. It's only sixty miles..."
Abraham spun on him, eyes burning. "No! We're at war. My mission is to get you to Washington. Every direction's a question. We don't go back!"
Glenn stepped in, steady. "Are you good? Because this isn't a sprint... it's the long haul. If you're not good, we need to know now."
Abraham's breathing slowed. He straightened, jaw set. "I'm good. This is how things stop. I can't afford it. The world can't afford it."
Glenn nodded once. "Then let's go."
Rosita's voice cut through. "We'll find what we need. Same as always. On the way."
Tara half-grinned. "Maybe we find some bikes. Bikes don't burn."
The group chuckled, tension breaking just enough. Abraham gave it a beat, then nodded. "Alright. Let's move."
Eugene lingered at the back, staring at the walker he'd half-stopped, half-saved Carly from.
For the first time, he felt something stir inside him.
Maybe he didn't need so much protection. Maybe he didn't need to lie anymore.
...
That night, after camp was set and the fire burned low, Eugene found Tara sitting apart from the others, checking her gear.
His hands shook as he approached.
"I need to tell you something," he muttered.
She glanced up. "What's up?"
"The bus…" His voice cracked. He forced the words out. "It didn't just die. I sabotaged it. I made it fail."
Tara froze, eyes wide. "What? Why the hell would you..."
"Because I can't save the world!" Eugene blurted. His chest heaved. "If they knew that, if they knew I'm not who I said I was… they wouldn't protect me. They'd leave me behind."
Silence hung between them, heavy and raw. Tara's face twisted in disbelief. "How could you say that? We're friends. We protect our own. That's what we do."
She shook her head, then softened, lowering her voice. "Look… I'll keep your secret. But we keep pushing toward D.C. No more lies. No more sabotage."
Eugene swallowed hard, eyes burning. "Thank you."
Tara leaned closer, her tone sharp. "You can't do this again. Ever."
He nodded, finally meeting her eyes. "I won't."
...
The group huddled in the street of a small town, weighing their next move.
Traveling for miles was nothing on wheels, but on foot it could kill them.
Abraham's scowl cracked into a grin. He jabbed a finger across the road. "Problem solved."
They turned. Parked crooked by the curb, weathered red paint faded but intact, sat a firetruck.
Hope flickered through the group.
They rushed over, Rosita and Tara checking the tires, Glenn and Abraham pulling at the doors. Inside, the controls were dusty but clean.
"Let's get her purring," Abraham said.
Before they could work, the groans started. From the firehouse's shattered windows, walkers spilled out in a tide. Dozens, maybe more.
"Here we go!" Abraham barked, swinging his rifle butt into the first skull that lunged at him. The others fell into formation, blades flashing, gunshots echoing.
Eugene froze for half a breath, then spotted the ignition key still dangling. His pulse hammered.
He slid into the driver's seat, muttering numbers under his breath like a prayer. The engine coughed, roared, and caught.
The truck shuddered alive.
Eugene's eyes darted to the mounted hose. He scrambled up, yanked the lever, and unleashed a torrent of water.
The pressurized blast ripped through the walkers, tearing flesh from bone, flinging them aside in ragged pieces.
The horde buckled under the onslaught, scattering.
When the last walker dropped, silence crashed down. Water dripped in rivulets along the pavement.
Abraham let out a bark of laughter, clapping Eugene on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Hell yeah! That's how you do it!"
For the first time, Eugene didn't shrink under the praise.
He straightened, glasses crooked, chest heaving, but something fierce lit in his eyes.
The group climbed aboard. The firetruck rumbled forward, tires crushing the last of the dead as they rolled back onto the highway.
...
Ten miles down the road, the firetruck coughed and died, the gas tank bone dry.
Tara shot a look at Eugene. He threw up his hands. "Not me this time."
Abraham slammed the steering wheel hard enough to rattle the frame. "Son of a..."
They piled out. That's when the stench hit them... thick, rotten, carried on the wind.
The group pressed on by foot, nerves taut.
Then they stopped cold.
Stretching across the horizon, wall to wall, was a living tide of walkers. Thousands. A sea of death, shambling forward without end.
Tara and Carly gasped. Rosita exhaled sharply through her nose.
Abraham stood rooted, his gaze locked on a lone horse grazing in the distance, as if it didn't even notice the apocalypse swallowing the earth around it. His face was stone.
Glenn shook his head. "We gotta go. Find another way."
Abraham didn't move. "No. We don't. They can't see us from here. They can't hear us. We're fine."
Carly scoffed. "Yeah, this is definitely fine."
"There's gotta be a detour," Glenn pressed.
"No." Abraham's voice hardened. "From Houston to here it's been nothing but detours. I'm done with detours."
Glenn's tone sharpened. "We're not going through that horde."
Abraham's voice thundered, veins standing out on his neck. "We got a shitstorm behind door A and door B. But we don't go back!"
The group argued back.
There were too many, they'd never make it. It was suicide.
Abraham roared, "We can make it! We will make it!"
Rosita stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. "No. They're right."
Abraham's face twisted, fury boiling over. He spun, grabbed Eugene by the collar, and dragged him down the road.
Tara darted in to stop him. He shoved her hard, almost dropping her. The group surged, trying to hold him back, shouting over each other.
The chaos broke when Eugene screamed.
"I'm not a doctor!"
Silence crashed down. Everyone froze.
Eugene stood trembling, his lips quivering, his eyes darting from face to face. "I… I lied. I'm not a scientist. I don't know how to stop it. I've never been part of any project. I just… I just needed people to keep me alive."
The words hit like bullets.
Rosita's voice cracked. "You're a scientist. I've seen what you can do."
"I just… know things," Eugene muttered, hollow.
Glenn's eyes burned. "You just know things?"
Rosita's expression shattered. Carly gasped. Doug spat, "Unbelievable."
Eugene's voice rose, desperate, defiant. "I knew I had to get to D.C. Because it has the strongest chance. If I tricked people into taking me there, I figured I was doing them a favor... Given the state of things!"
Abraham's knees buckled. He sank to the asphalt, staring at nothing. His mind raced through every death, every loss, every sacrifice.
Rosita whispered, her voice breaking. "People died for you. For this."
Eugene's eyes brimmed, but his voice was flat. "I know... Stephanie, Warren, Pam, Zack, Michael, Ed, Josh, Mo, Zeke… I lost my nerve. Because I'm a coward. I was never going to tell you until D.C. But now... now it doesn't matter. I'm damned either way."
His eyes flicked down to Abraham. "I am smarter than you. You might be tempted to leave me, but..."
Abraham moved like a storm breaking. His fist cracked across Eugene's face. Blood burst from Eugene's nose as he crumpled.
Another punch. Then another. Abraham's rage poured out in each blow, roaring, spitting betrayal and grief.
It took Glenn and Doug both to drag him off, Abraham thrashing like a wounded animal.
Eugene lay still in the dirt, his face a ruin of blood and swelling.
Abraham staggered back, chest heaving, then dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands.
The soldier who never broke now shook like a man shattered.
The group stood silent.
The only sound was Abraham's ragged breathing, the endless moan of the horde in the distance, and the whistle of the wind down the road.
Glenn finally stepped forward, voice low but steady. "It's over. The mission's a lie. We go back. We regroup with our people."
No one argued. Not Rosita. Not Tara. Not Carly or Doug.
Abraham didn't look up.
The group gathered their things in silence, the weight of the truth pressing down on them.
The road ahead no longer led to salvation.
It only led back.