Aaron, Daryl, and Morgan pulled the trucks smoothly into Alexandria.
Curious Alexandrians drifted over, murmuring among themselves.
Deanna stood at the front as Aaron and Daryl climbed out.
Her eyes widened when she spotted Morgan and Duane. "New friends?"
Aaron nodded. "Yep. They knew Joe and Rick back at the start." Daryl gave a short nod.
Deanna studied them a moment, then turned to Aaron. "And the three trucks?"
Aaron smirked. "We brought gifts."
Deanna frowned, following him to the back. Aaron threw the door open. Rows of crates stacked high filled the truck.
Deanna froze. "It can't be…" Others peered in, disbelief etched across their faces.
Daryl's voice rumbled behind her. "Yup."
Deanna stood there in stunned silence, then nodded briskly. "We'll drive these over to the pantry."
A handful of Alexandrians jumped in, eager to move the convoy.
Turning back, Deanna offered her hand. "I'm Deanna. Welcome to Alexandria."
Morgan shook it firmly. "Thanks for having us."
"I know you're anxious to see Joe and Rick," she said. "I won't keep you. But afterward, I'd like you both in my office for a short interview."
Morgan tilted his head. "Interview?" Duane mimicked the gesture almost perfectly.
Aaron clapped Morgan on the back. "I'll explain on the way."
Morgan nodded, falling into step.
Aaron added, "Joe might be out, but Rick should be at the training field."
"Interview?" Duane asked nervously.
Daryl cut in. "She just wants to ask questions."
Aaron clarified. "Yeah, just basic stuff. Where you've been, what you've seen."
Morgan and Duane exchanged a glance, then nodded.
They walked into the training field and both of them stopped dead.
Men and women stood in rough lines, weapons in hand. Rick paced before them, machete in hand, demonstrating swings.
"Always aim for the head. It's their only weakness. Strike firm, but keep your balance."
He turned to move down the line when a voice called out.
"Rick!"
Rick froze, then spun around. His face broke into a rare smile. "Morgan!"
Morgan and Duane walked forward. Rick rushed to meet him, pulling him into a tight hug.
Morgan chuckled. "We followed the map you left at the prison. Been tracking you a long time, trying to catch up."
Rick's smile widened. "I'm glad you're here. Both of you."
Duane grinned, standing tall beside his father.
Rick glanced back at the field , some of the Alexandrians had stopped swinging to watch.
His expression hardened. "Keep going!"
The slackers were startled, raising their weapons again.
Morgan stepped forward, watching them. A few swung too hard, losing their stance.
Without a word, he shifted a man's footing with his staff, adjusted another's grip. Then he demonstrated a clean strike. His weight balanced and efficient.
The Alexandrians mirrored him, their motions sharpening almost instantly.
Aaron leaned toward Daryl on the sideline. "I think I know the perfect job for him."
Daryl smirked faintly, watching the Alexandrians improve under Morgan's eye. "Yeah. So do I."
...
Joe and the crew welded the last spike into place.
The men were eager to get inside as it was the latest they'd ever stayed outside the walls.
At least the spikes were done now. They would focus on the barbed wire tomorrow.
As they crossed the gate, Joe caught a flicker at the edge of his vision.
Shhkt!
A machete came down.
Joe's katana flashed free, steel screaming against steel as he caught the blow.
He shoved hard, breaking their clash. His boot smashing into the attacker's chest.
The man went flying, skidding across the pavement.
The workers jumped, panicked. Joe didn't flinch.
He advanced. One clean slash ripped through the man's arm, nearly severing it.
The machete fell with a dull clink. The man howled, clutching the wound m until Joe's boot smashed into his face.
Teeth cracked, blood spraying the ground in thick ropes.
Joe's eyes swept the street. There was movement in the shadows.
"Close the gate!" he barked. "Arm everyone. Now!"
And then he ran after the shadows.
Five men stood waiting down the road, blades glinting under the fading light.
Joe slowed, lips curling into a grin. "Wrong move."
They howled like wolves and charged.
The first swung wild. Joe's katana carved his throat open, a red geyser spraying across the ground. He crumpled with a wet gargle.
The second came in from the side, hatchet raised. Joe pivoted, slicing deep across his thigh.
The man screamed, collapsing to one knee. Joe's blade split his skull before the cry was finished.
Another lunged, blade flashing. Joe ducked low, the steel whistling past his ear.
He surged up, stabbing under the ribs, twisting hard. The man convulsed, blood bubbling from his mouth.
The fourth tried to grapple, wrapping his arms around Joe's chest. Joe slammed his head back into his face and felt the man's nose crunch.
He spun and slashed, opening him from shoulder to hip. His guts spilled hot onto the road.
Only one left.
Within moments he was on the ground, Joe's katana driven deep into his stomach, pinning him to the road.
The man coughed blood, smirking through the pain. "We know where you are now… the Wolves are..."
Joe drew his Glock and fired point-blank. The man's head burst open, painting the dirt black and red.
Joe stood over him, breathing steady. A low chuckle escaped his lips. "Got what I needed."
He yanked his blade free, turned, and walked back toward the gate, laughing louder with each step.
His voice thundered into the night,
"WE'LL BE WAITING FOR YOU!"
From the shadows of a shattered building, a lone figure watched, muscles tight, face twisted into a furious scowl.
He slipped back into the dark, vanishing into the ruins, rushing to warn the pack.
...
Joe walked up to the gate, blood splattered across his white tee. Sarah yanked the gate open fast, her eyes going wide with worry.
"You okay?" she asked.
Joe nodded. "It's not mine."
Sarah froze, staring at the crimson stains on his face and chest. She swallowed hard and shut the gate behind him.
Inside, Rick, Deanna, Reg, and half the community were waiting.
Joe's voice was calm, steady. "Be ready. Our friends will be coming soon."
Deanna and Reg stiffened.
Rick just sighed. "Can't we get one damn stretch where nothing happens?"
Before the silence grew heavy, Duane stepped forward. "Joe!"
Joe turned, his expression easing. "What's up, kid? I knew you two would show up eventually."
Duane grinned.
Joe scanned the crowd. "Alright, everyone. Go on home."
But panic rippled through them instead.
"What are we gonna do?"
"Are we gonna die?"
"What if they attack tonight?"
Joe raised his voice, cutting through the noise. "We'll be fine tonight. I'll have people on watch around the fence. They won't come right away... not tonight, maybe not even tomorrow. They'll wait for us to relax or pick us off outside the walls."
The words steadied them, their shoulders loosening. Even Deanna let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Slowly, the crowd dispersed back to their houses.
Rick, Daryl, Lee, Morgan, and Duane stayed behind.
Rick asked, "How many are we talking?"
Joe exhaled. "More than us."
Daryl asked, "Guns?"
Joe smirked. "None. Just blades, bats, and axes."
Daryl and Lee scoffed. Lee muttered, "Then they're dumb as hell."
Daryl chuckled. "Yeah."
Morgan frowned. "So you're just gonna kill them all?" Duane glanced at him nervously.
Joe tilted his head. "Why not? They're trying to take from us."
Morgan's jaw tightened. "Every life matters."
Rick let out a sharp laugh. "The only lives that matter are ours."
Morgan's eyes widened. "What happened to you, Rick? You weren't like this."
Joe's tone was cool. "He saw what the world really is. You will too. Eventually."
Morgan shook his head but said nothing more.
Duane spoke up. "So… where should we sleep tonight?"
Joe's face softened. He patted the boy's shoulder. "With me. Rick and I have a couple tiny surprises for you."
Duane tilted his head, not understanding. Morgan's eyes went wide in disbelief. "What do you mean?"
Joe only smiled. "Come on. Walk with me."
Morgan exchanged a wary glance with Rick. Rick just patted his back. "You'll see."
...
They stepped into the house.
Amy sat curled in the living room with a book. Julian played on the floor, stacking blocks into a crooked tower.
When he spotted Joe, his face lit up. "Dada!"
Joe smiled. "There's my boy."
Amy's expression hardened as her eyes landed on his hands, sticky with dried blood. "Don't you dare."
Joe froze, glanced down, then chuckled to himself. He crossed into the kitchen and washed his hands, the water running red before fading clear.
Morgan hadn't moved. His gaze stayed locked on Julian. The boy's giggle, the safety of the room, the normalcy of it all.
Rick leaned in and clapped him on the shoulder. "If that shocks you, wait till you see the rest."
Morgan's voice was low, uncertain. "There's… more?"
Rick smirked. "I've got a little girl. Joe's got several."
Morgan shook his head, overwhelmed. "I don't know if I can process this."
Amy rose, scooping Julian into her arms. She stepped toward Morgan with a warm smile.
"Hi. I'm Amy. Nice to meet you."
Morgan shook her hand gently. "Morgan. This is my son, Duane."
Amy smiled at him. "We've got spare rooms. Pick whichever feels right."
"Thank you," Morgan said quietly.
Joe came down the stairs with a newborn in his arms. He walked over, holding her out carefully. "Here's our newest addition."
Morgan's breath caught. His eyes softened. "Can I…?"
Joe nodded, passing Miracle into his arms.
Morgan held her as though she were made of glass. Her tiny chest rose and fell, lips parting with a soft squeak.
He blinked hard, emotion catching in his throat. "Never thought I'd hold a baby this small again," he whispered.
Joe smiled. "That's the point. Your days outside are over. We build this place up. Make it unbreakable."
Morgan stared down at the baby, then back at Joe. The contradiction pressed on him.
A man still flecked with blood, speaking gently while a newborn slept in his arms.
And in that contradiction, Morgan saw truth.
The world could be brutal. Men like Joe had to be brutal.
But from that, something innocent, something worth protecting, could still be born.
His jaw set. He nodded firmly. "Then let's build it. Make this place strong."
...
The night passed without incident. The guards saw nothing.
Morning came. Joe stirred awake beneath the warm weight of Amy and Andrea curled against him.
He slipped free carefully, dressed, and moved down the hall. Maggie lay asleep, face peaceful. Joe bent to kiss her cheek. She stirred, arms looping around his neck, whispering, "Another."
Joe chuckled softly, kissed her again, and stayed with her a moment before pulling away.
Downstairs, the clock read 6:39. He fixed himself a quick breakfast, ate, and then stepped out into the cool morning air.
At the gazebo, he sat waiting. The world was still, the mist hanging low over the grass.
Jess appeared, a cup of coffee in her hands. Her hair was still mussed from sleep, damp at the edges, and she wore a loose shirt that brushed just above her thighs.
"Good morning, Joe," she said softly, handing the cup to him.
Joe accepted with a smile, their fingers brushing. "Thanks, Jess."
She lingered, leaning into his hug as his hand slid across her back.
Her breath caught, the subtle shiver in her body gave her away.
Jess's cheeks flushed as she stepped back. "Well… have a good day."
Joe held her gaze a moment longer than he should. "You too, Red."
As she turned, her hips swayed. Not exaggerated but naturally.
His eyes followed her, watching her walk away, a pull in his chest he wasn't supposed to feel.
Joe shook his head, forcing his attention back to the steaming cup in his hand.
He sipped the bitter coffee, letting it burn against his tongue. A reminder to stay grounded.
...
A few minutes later, Reg arrived with Noah in tow.
"Morning," they greeted.
Joe nodded. "Morning. What's on the agenda?"
Reg answered, "Abraham and his crew brought back the equipment and materials for the towers. Today they're digging the bases and laying concrete."
"Good," Joe said. "What about materials for the barbed wire?"
Noah nodded. "We'll bend rebar to sixty degrees and weld it along the top of the wall. Then we clamp the wire to the rebar."
Joe thought a moment, then nodded. "Add braces too. Just in case the welds weaken over time."
Reg's eyes lit. "Smart. We'll need to bend some eighth-inch stamp steel for that."
Joe nodded again. "Split the crew. Half on bending, half on welding."
"Sounds like a plan," Noah said with a grin.