The U-Haul rattled and groaned as it rolled over potholes, its metal frame echoing every bump.
The back was cramped, dimly lit by a single lantern swaying from a hook.
Everyone sat shoulder to shoulder on crates and blankets, the hum of the road filling the silence.
Beth sat close to Joe, her cheek still bruised from Dawn's slap, but her hand warm in his.
Beside her, Noah shifted uneasily, his knees pulled up, eyes flicking between all the new faces around him.
Beth leaned forward. "Joe," she said softly. "This is Noah. He looked after me. When things got bad in Grady… he helped me keep hopeful."
Joe turned his head, his steady gaze falling on Noah. For a long moment, the only sound was the wheels crunching gravel beneath them.
Then Joe reached out, his hand firm.
"Thank you," he said simply. His voice carried over the hum of the truck.
"You kept her safe. That means you've got my respect. Anything you need... food, weapons, a place to sleep. I'll see to it that you get it."
Noah hesitated, his hand trembling before he shook Joe's. The gesture seemed to ground him.
"I… I appreciate that," Noah said quietly. He glanced at Beth, who gave him an encouraging nod, then back to Joe.
"There is something. A place. Before Atlanta, before Grady took me… I was with my family. We lived in a community. Walls, houses, supplies. People looking out for each other. Safer than anything else I've seen."
The truck jolted over a bump, making the lantern sway. Joe's eyes narrowed. "If it was so safe, why'd you end up in Grady?"
Noah's jaw tightened. "My dad and I came here to find my uncle. Walkers hit us hard during our search. My dad and I got caught. They dragged me into the hospital. He…"
His voice caught, but he forced the words out. "He didn't make it. But the place is still there. Strong. If we go… you'll see."
Joe leaned back against the truck wall, arms crossed, expression skeptical. "Safe isn't something I believe in."
Beth nudged him gently with her shoulder, her voice soft but certain. "Joe… he's telling the truth. If there's even a chance, it's worth looking."
Joe looked at her, then back at Noah. He studied the young man's steady eyes, his thin frame, the quiet conviction in his words.
Finally, Joe nodded once. "Alright. I'll get you there. But hear me now... we might not stay. If I don't like what I see, if it puts my family at risk… We move on."
Noah nodded firmly, relief flooding his face. "That's fair. But I think… when you see it, you'll understand."
The U-Haul rattled down the cracked road, the hum of the tires and the occasional jolt filling the silence.
Most of the group had dozed off where they sat, heads leaning against the rattling walls or each other.
The lantern swung overhead, casting soft, swaying light across tired faces.
Joe sat with his back against the wall, Beth tucked close to his side. She hadn't let go of his hand since leaving Grady.
For a while, she was quiet, her eyes tracing the shadows, her thumb brushing absently across his scarred knuckles.
Then, softly, almost a whisper, "There's something I need to tell you."
Joe glanced down at her, brow furrowed. "What is it?"
Beth hesitated, biting her lip. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat. "Back at the church… when Daryl came back. He didn't tell you everything."
Joe's eyes sharpened, his body tensing instantly. "About what?"
Beth met his gaze, her own steady now, though her voice trembled. "About me. Joe… I'm pregnant."
For a long moment, the truck's rattling was the only sound. Joe stared at her, the words sinking in, his face unreadable.
Then his jaw tightened, his hand cupping the side of her face, rough thumb brushing her cheek.
His voice was low, steady, but burning with emotion. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Beth swallowed, her eyes glistening. "I didn't know for sure until… until after we lost the prison. I was scared. Scared I wouldn't make it. Scared it would break you. But in Grady… I realized if I didn't tell you now, I might never get the chance."
Joe's eyes softened, the storm in them easing as he pulled her closer, pressing his forehead against hers. "You should've told me. I would've carried that weight with you. I will."
Her tears spilled then, but she smiled faintly. "I know. I trust you more than anyone."
Joe's hand slid down, resting carefully on her stomach. His voice dropped to a whisper, fierce and certain.
"I'll protect you both. No matter what it takes. Nothing and no one touches you. Not while I'm breathing."
Beth leaned into him, relief flooding her chest. "I knew you'd say that."
The lantern swayed above them, the world outside the truck dark and broken... but inside, Beth finally felt safe.
Joe pressed a kiss to her hair, holding her tight. For the first time since Terminus, his heart felt steady. His family was whole again.
His promise to Hershel, still kept.
...
The church walls shuddered with every pounding fist. Rotten fingers clawed through cracks, groans bleeding through the shutters.
The dead had found them.
Inside, chaos erupted. The group was barely armed.
A few blades, some scavenged tools. Too many faces, not enough weapons.
Carl gritted his teeth, prying open the trap door to the crawlspace. "This way! We can sneak out!"
Ty and Michonne didn't hesitate. They dropped through first, blades in hand, their weight shaking the floorboards. Some other men and women followed after them.
The second they emerged outside, the horde turned.
Ty bellowed, swinging his axe in wide, brutal arcs. Bone cracked, skulls split, blood splattering his face. His shoulders burned, but he didn't stop.
Michonne spun, her katana slicing clean through three at once, then another, her feet moving like she was dancing through hell.
Sasha burst from the crawlspace next, machete flashing. Each strike was fueled by fury, grief, and desperation.
Carl climbed out after, crowbar in both hands, smashing skulls with grim determination.
Bonny, Cass, Phil and Lilly were right beside them. Doing their very best to hold the line.
Behind them, Maggie and Amy fought shoulder to shoulder, their blades heavy in their hands, arms trembling with fatigue.
It wasn't enough.
The dead pressed harder. Dozens more pushed through the trees, moaning, their numbers swelling.
The defenders' strikes slowed, breaths ragged.
If something didn't happen soon...
VRRRROOOM!
Headlights cut through the fog. A U-Haul truck barreled down the road, engine roaring.
It plowed into the horde, bodies exploding against the grille, flung aside like ragdolls.
The truck smashed into the front steps of the church, blocking the doorway and trapping the rest of the horde outside.
The back door burst open.
Joe leapt out first, katana gleaming. He carved a walker clean in half with one strike, spinning to sever another's head.
Behind him, Rick and Daryl stormed out, rifles blazing, Lee and Kenny firing from up on the truck.
The battlefield turned.
Steel and gunfire tore through the remaining dead. Walkers crumpled in heaps until the last of them staggered, then fell.
For a moment, silence.
Maggie stood still, blood smeared across her cheek. Her eyes locked on Beth.
"Beth!"
Beth broke from Joe's side, sprinting across the corpse-strewn ground. The sisters collided, arms wrapping tight, sobs choking their throats.
"You're alive," Maggie gasped, tears streaming.
Beth laughed breathlessly, pulling back just enough to grab Maggie's hand. She pressed it gently to her stomach. "Mags… I'm pregnant."
Maggie froze, stunned. Then her curved as she whispered, "So am I."
For a moment, the world was gone.
No blood, no corpses, no fear. Just two sisters clinging to each other, sharing the impossible truth that life still had a place in this world.
The others gave them space, silent, respectful. Joe watched with arms crossed, his chest heaving from the fight, eyes softer now.
One by one, the group filed back inside the battered church. Exhausted. Bloodied. But alive.
...
The church was quiet now, save for the faint groans of downed walkers outside and the low creak of the building settling. Lantern light flickered across the bloodstained pews.
At the back, Joe walked to the pastor's quarters. The door was scarred with deep gouges.
The wood splintered where claws had raked across it, but it still held strong.
He raised a hand and knocked softly.
The latch clicked. The door eased open.
Andrea stepped out first, her face pale but calm, Julian clutched in her arms.
Behind her, Emma followed, holding Esther and Grace close against her chest.
The second Joe appeared in the doorway, the children lit up.
Giggles spilled from their mouths, tiny arms stretching, little legs kicking as they tried to wriggle free.
Joe bent down, pressing gentle kisses to Andrea's forehead, then Emma's.
He didn't touch the little ones, still smeared in blood and gore, but he leaned close enough for them to grab at his face with their tiny hands.
Their laughter filled the air, warm and alive.
For a moment, the chaos outside felt far away.
The group gathered in the main hall afterward, scattered on pews, slumped against walls, catching their breath.
Rick leaned against the pulpit, arms crossed, his eyes scanning the room.
Michonne sat beside Judith, rocking her softly.
Daryl, Carol and Sophia slouched in a corner, heads tipped back, eyes closed.
But as the silence stretched, the truth set in.
The church was broken. Its steps were buried in corpses, its doors battered, its very walls scarred by the fight.
Everyone knew... they couldn't stay here any longer.
Joe finally said it, his voice low but carrying. "This place is done. In the morning, we move."
Carl asked, "Where do we go?"
Joe answered, "This is Noah, he has a group up north. Strong walls, people. He says it's still standing."
Heads bowed, weary nods followed.
For now, they let themselves rest, the children's laughter the only sound breaking the heavy quiet.
Tomorrow, the road would call again.
...
The night was quiet, the church dark but watchful.
VRRRRMMM.
The low growl of an engine rolled up the road, cutting through the silence. Headlights flared across the churchyard, spilling through the cracks of the boarded windows.
Instantly, the group snapped alert.
Joe rose, rifle in hand, eyes sharp. Rick, Daryl, Lee, and Kenny followed, each man grabbing his weapon and rushing to the front.
The women gathered the children close, Amy and Emma clutching them tight in the pastor's quarters.
Joe reached the door, his voice a low growl. "Ready."
The truck stopped. The engine cut. For a moment, nothing but silence.
Then a panicked shout split the air.
"Guys?"
Everyone froze.
Joe's grip tightened. Slowly, he eased the door open. The cold night air washed in, carrying the sound of boots on gravel.
Out of the dark, Glenn appeared. He was breathless, dirty, eyes wide.
Relief and confusion rippled through the group.
Joe stepped out onto the porch. The others flanked him. "What are you doing here?"
Glenn's gaze fell to the ground. His voice cracked. "Eugene lied. He can't stop it. He never could. He only said he could so Abraham would protect him."
Silence fell heavy over the yard.
Joe's jaw tightened. He glanced past Glenn, toward the pickup parked crookedly in the road.
In the bed sat Abraham.
The soldier's massive frame hunched forward, elbows braced on his knees, his hands hanging limp.
His eyes were glassy, staring into nothing.
Shattered.
The man who had driven them forward with unshakable conviction now looked hollow, like his purpose had been ripped out of him.
The group watched in silence, the reality sinking in.
The mission to Washington was dead.
The pews creaked under the weight of too many bodies. Lanterns burned low, shadows stretching long across the cracked walls.
The air was heavy with fatigue and the stink of walker blood, but the group was whole again.
Glenn sat near Tara, his arm around her shoulders. Rosita lingered by the door, still shaken. Carly clutched her knees to her chest.
Abraham hadn't moved since being hauled inside, slumped on a bench, his eyes dead and fixed on the floor.
At his feet, Eugene lay stretched out on a blanket, still unconscious. His face was swollen and bloodied, every slow breath rattling in his throat.
No one said it out loud, but all of them knew that if Abraham hadn't been pulled off him. Eugene might not even be breathing.
The sight of him was a bitter reminder of what they'd lost and what they'd been chasing for nothing.
No one spoke.
Finally, Joe broke the silence. He stood at the front of the church, rifle leaning against the pulpit. His eyes swept the group, steady and sharp.
"Washington's done. That road's closed." He glanced at Glenn, then at Abraham's hollow figure, then at Eugene's crumpled form. "We have a new direction."
The group stirred, tired eyes turning toward him.
Joe gestured toward Noah, who sat stiffly near Beth, his hands clasped together. "Richmond, Virginia. A community. Walled, fortified. Thats our nee game plan."
Noah nodded quickly, his voice quiet but earnest. "It was strong. Organized. We had food, guards, homes. If it's still there, you'll be safe."
Skeptical murmurs rippled through Glenn's group. Rick leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching Joe.
Joe's expression didn't waver. "I don't trust the word 'safe.' Not anymore. But… we'll see for ourselves. If it's like what Noah says, it could give us a future. If it's not..."
His eyes hardened. "We keep moving."
Beth looked around the room, her hand brushing her stomach unconsciously. "It's worth trying. We can't keep running forever."
Carol gave the faintest nod. "We need shelter. A place to not just survive, but live. We need to stop losing people."
Glenn met Joe's gaze across the pews. For the first time since the firetruck broke down, there was a flicker of hope in his eyes.
Joe leaned against the pulpit, his voice final. "Tomorrow, we head for Noah's community. Rest up tonight. At first light, we head out."
The group settled into uneasy silence again.
Eugene shifted faintly in his sleep, groaning, before falling still once more.
And for the first time in too long, they had a destination.