"Oh my God!" I shouted, gripping the bed sheets.

Rick's fingers moved at a quick, steady pace. His mouth sucked on the sensitive skin of my neck and shoulder. His soft and tender lips caused me to let out an airy moan.

Tension built up in my core and I desperately needed release.

"Come on, baby," Rick whispered before gently biting my earlobe. Goosebumps erupted over my body. The floodgates were open.

He covered my mouth as my body shuttered and I loudly moaned into his hand.

Rick laid beside me, our chests heaving in sync.

A smile formed on my face. "Wow," I panted.

"Great way to start the day," Rick said, taking my hand.

"Agreed. Especially considerin' what we're doin' later."

Rick sighed, gripping me tighter. "We should probably start gettin' ready for that."

I groaned and rolled toward him. I slung my bare leg over his and wrapped my arm around his toned chest. "Let's stay here just a little longer."

A deep chuckle emitted from Rick's throat. He pulled me closer. The heat from our bodies mingled together. "How can I say no to you when you look like this? But we really do gotta get ready, Jo."

"Five minutes?" I pleaded. I snuggled my head into the crook of his neck.

"Three," he stated.

"I'll take it."

The happy moment between us quickly drifted away.

I focused on Rick's breathing in an attempt to stop myself from thinking about the slaughter that would soon occur. The Saviors weren't innocent—I knew it needed to be done—but it still weighed heavily upon me for some reason. I hadn't killed a person in so long; I almost had forgotten what it felt like.

I quickly reminded myself that they were kid killers, and the knot inside my gut shrank. If we didn't do this first, they'd come after us. Just like the Governor, Helen, and Gareth did. Once we got inside, it would be easy for me. It's a kill-or-be-killed world and my family would survive.

The knot persisted and began to grow.

I traced Rick's gunshot scar. Rick found the one on my left arm.

"You okay?" Rick asked.

I shrugged. "I'm just ready to kill the Saviors, which doesn't feel entirely right. They're evil assholes, but they're still people, you know?" I said. I paused a second and scrunched up my face. "God, I'm startin' to sound like Morgan."

"One of him is enough." Rick sat up, pulling me up with him. "But we're doin' what we have to. We need the food, the allies, the safety."

"I know that. I do. Especially after seenin' Dakota's face when Aaron brought up the Wolves at the church. I don't know why it's gettin' to me now. I was so ready to kill Tate, just like that." I snapped my fingers. "But I have this feeling inside that somethin' is wrong about this."

"Are you second guessing comin' along?"

I shook my head. "No. No. Maybe it's not that I don't want to kill people—because I do, it has to happen—maybe it's more than that."

Three minutes had passed. It was time for us to prepare for the day.

Rick began putting on a fresh set of clothes from the dresser. Despite my internal conflict, I couldn't help but admire his lean body. Every inch of him was perfect.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at me. "What do you mean?" he prompted.

I pulled a sports bra over my head. "You're goin' to think I'm crazy."

"You know I don't think you're crazy, Jo. I told you that after Woodbury."

I was taken aback a moment as the memory popped into my mind. "You remember that?"

Rick looked at the floor. I could have sworn he was embarrassed. "Yeah," he confirmed. "I remember every moment with you." My feet moved swiftly across the room. I cupped his cheeks and slammed my lips into his. Rick smiled into the kiss. "What was that for?"

I had to stop myself from telling him I loved him. "The fact that you remember."

We continued getting dressed. I slipped on my blue jeans, socks, and boots.

"Why do you think I'll think you're crazy?" Rick pressed on.

I cracked my knuckles. "That feeling I'm gettin', it always happens when people I care about are goin' to die," I admitted. "Or come close to dyin'. But sometimes it happens for myself too, so it's not reliable. But I know the feeling well. Rick...I'm scared."

The sheriff took me by the shoulders. "I believe you, okay?"

I nodded.

Rick retreated to his mind before continuing, "Maybe you have that feeling only because we haven't done anything yet. Maybe your intuition is tellin' you to act now before it's too late."

"Yeah, maybe," I said, not fully convinced by his words.

"Everyone will come back from this. I promise."

"Okay."

Rick watched me with an insistence in his eyes before giving one quick nod. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

I bit my lip as I tried to shove the dread somewhere dark.

Judith began crying in the next room over. Her wails were piercing. It was like she knew her protectors were going to leave her and put themselves in harm's way.

"I got her!" I called to Rick as I swiftly pulled a black long sleeve t-shirt on.

As I entered her room, Judith stood in her crib with her arms outstretched. Her face was red and puffy. Tears streamed down her cheeks and snot dripped down from her nose. I grabbed a tissue and wiped her face clean before scooping her into my arms. She immediately buried her head in my chest. Her little body shook with each sob.

It took everything inside of me not to break down and cry with her. Not only because I hated seeing her like this, but because of all the negative emotions I was experiencing.

"It's okay, honey," I cooed. "It's okay. It's all goin' to be okay."

I didn't know who I was trying to convince, Judith or myself.

The two of us held each other tight. As her cries quieted down, my anxiety dissipated.

I kissed her forehead. "I wish I could stay here with you all day, sweet girl."

___

Rick and Daryl led the charge to the Savior's base under the cover of night.  The giant satellite dish peeked over the trees, acting as a beacon on our journey.

Blair and I walked a step behind the men. Rick turned back to to glance at my sister.

"You sure you're ready for this?" he asked.

"She is," Daryl verified for her.

The two of them had been going outside the walls for a couple of weeks. I didn't know if it was Blair's idea or Daryl's, but he was training her to fight. She was a good shot and she knew her way around a gun. Active combat was a different story. But based on his confident response, I'd say she got over that hill.

Blair and Dakota shared a knowing look. It made me wonder what they really went through out there.

"Okay," stated Rick.

Half the group split off to the east side of the building, and the rest of us went west. We were silent except for the patter of our feet. I pressed my back up against the thick concrete wall, my automatic rifle at the ready.

Rick peered around the wall as Andy pulled up to the front of the facility. Red lights flashed on and a booming male voice yelled, "Stop right there!"

There was no going back now. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I tried to ignore the chill in my bones.

The Saviors bought the fake Gregory head. The plan was working.

As one of the men opened the door to retrieve Craig, Daryl was on the move. The guard tauntingly began whistling 'Happy Birthday' to Andy. Luckily, his song was cut short.

When I heard the thump of the guard's body hitting the ground, I sprinted around the wall. A handful of us acted swiftly to remove any evidence of the murder. Aaron and Jesus moved the body as I grabbed the man's gun and slung it over my shoulder. I ran back to my position and handed the gun to Gabriel. My heart was racing from the exertion of energy and the fear of being caught.

The other Savior emerged, a pair of shuffling feet next to him. "Well, well, well. Look who it is," the man sneered. He then cried out in pain as Michonne's katana sliced through him.

It was go time for everyone now.

I followed Rick to the front of the building where he stabbed the guard in the head and tossed the keys to Daryl. Daryl unlocked the entrance before holding open the door. I was the first one inside with Blair right behind me.

My rifle was pressed snuggly against my shoulder and my finger hovered above the trigger as I swept the area. I held up a fist, indicating to the rest of the group entering that it was clear.

The hallway was cold and lit a dim yellow. Lightbulbs buzzed and popped.

Abraham, Michonne, and Sasha went down the corridor to the left. Aaron, Rosita, Glenn, and Heath continued forward while Rick, Daryl, Blair, and I took the rooms closest to the entrance.

"Check the doors. Find the arsenal," Rick reminded us in a whisper. "We take 'em out."

I nodded to Blair, gesturing to a door. She nodded back in complete understanding. She slowly twisted the knob while I stood, ready to take out any threats. In the darkness, I could see vague shapes of broken machinery. I gave the all-clear signal again.

We continued moving deeper into the building, Daryl and Rick went to one door while Blair and I went to another. They opened theirs first. Daryl held up a finger. There was one Savior inside.

Blair, Daryl, and I kept watch while Rick slowly entered the room. I held my breath and gripped my gun with anxiety. If just one of the Saviors woke up, our plan could be ruined. We'd all be put in immediate danger. I knew if Rick did run into trouble here, Daryl would quickly dispatch the threat, but it didn't make me any less nervous for him.

Rick finally came into view, his knife dripping in blood. My muscles relaxed.

Rick bobbed his head toward us. As Blair opened the door, light flooded the room. I scanned the area and saw two sleeping men. I held up two fingers.

I unsheathed my knife before cautiously walking inside. The box fan hummed in the corner, creating a cover for our footsteps. I went to the man on the right and Blair went to the one on the left.

Before I was above the man, a corkboard caught my attention. Pinned on it were at least twenty photos of people with their heads bashed in. Their blood and brains were splattered around them. They were completely mutilated. Unrecognizable. My stomach churned.

The edges of Blair's mouth turned down and I knew she had the same thoughts as me. The most prominent one is that only vile, disgusting people would hang trophies of their kills like this. Our task just became exceedingly easy.

I glared at the man with his greasy black hair and nose that seemed to have been broken many times without properly healing. How many innocent men, women, and children did he brutally murder? How many times did he laugh while taking pictures of them while their friends and family watched in horror? He was at the same, or worse, caliber as the Governer's men who took pictures of me while I was naked, bleeding, and begging for mercy.

His brain squelched as I shoved the blade into his skull. I used the blood on my knife to draw a scythe on his white t-shirt.

As I turned, Blair was pulling out her knife. Her facial expression showed me she was fighting some internal battle. I placed a comforting hand on her back. Her posture became resolute.

I took one step out of the room and waved Rick and Daryl in. When they entered, I pointed to the board. Rick's eyes hardened upon seeing the evidence of the Savior's brutality. Daryl reached for the pictures angrily but Blair grabbed his forearm before he could create a commotion. He softened.

"Let's keep movin'," Rick whispered.

The four of us made our way down the hallway while staying close together and watching our surroundings carefully. The first door we came up to was only a disgusting bathroom. It looked like it hadn't been cleaned since before the apocalypse started. The second held toiletry items like shampoo, toothpaste, and razors.

Daryl slowly opened the next door. Rick peeked inside before mouthing 'two' and gesturing for me to follow.

The two twin beds were arranged in an L formation with the men's heads close together. We'd have to kill them at the same time to eliminate the risk of one of them waking up from the sound.

Rick and I held our blood-caked blades above their skulls. On the count of three, we drove the knives down.

As Rick looked over the room for any useful information on the Saviors or the armory, I dipped my finger in the blood on my knife. On the white concrete wall, I painted another scythe while rage built inside me.

Rick grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the wall when I had just finished the snath. His eyebrows were downturned and he searched my eyes for an explanation.

I hesitated, not knowing exactly what to say or how to start. Part of me was afraid he would look at me differently. Maybe he would understand. He knew how much hurt I've experienced at the hands of men like these. What he didn't know is how much this symbol has tormented me. It felt empowering to reclaim it in my own way. 

As soon as my mouth opened, an alarm started blaring.

"Fuck!" Rick and I said simultaneously.

Blair and Daryl were already firing their weapons when we rushed out of the room. Ahead of us, men flooded the hall. Rick and I joined the two in shooting down the enemy. Our bullets ripped through their flesh and sprayed their insides on the walls and floor.

Luckily, we had an advantage because the Saviores had just woken up and didn't know what they were walking into. They attempted to fire back, but we got them first.

After the last man burst through the door, he aimed directly at Blair. I blew his head off instantly. His reflexes caused him to pull the trigger and send a bullet at her thigh. It grazed her skin, ripping her jeans open. She sucked air in sharply through her teeth.

"You good?" Daryl asked, eyes darting to her wound. He placed a hand on her upper back.

"Yeah," she responded, her voice wavering slightly. "I'm fine. Just a scratch."

I saw the blood soaking into the fabric of her pants. "Are you sure?" I urged, locking eyes.

I knew my sister. I knew when she was lying.

"It looks worse than it feels. I promise."

Suddenly, above us, there was a stampede of footsteps. Gunfire sounded from every direction.

My gut twisted and my hands began to shake.

No. I control my fate. We control our fate. We've survived much worse and we'll do it again. It's time to focus on hope, not despair.

I gave Blair a determined nod. She returned the silent boost of confidence.

"We need to go," Rick said, his tone strong.

We ran through the compound's winding corridors, firing as we moved. Although my heart was racing, I kept a steady hand. I didn't miss a single shot. I couldn't afford to.

We came up to a stairwell where there was an overwhelming echo of feet slamming against metal. A group of Saviors were descending to the first floor. Rick held out his arm, stopping us from continuing forward. He then sprayed bullets at the men as they appeared.

"Go!" he shouted.

Daryl, Blair, and I sprinted past him into another section of the building.

About ten Saviors rounded the corner in front of us. My life flashed before my eyes. We were out in the open, killing us would be like shooting fish in a barrel. In less than a second, I assessed my surroundings. 

"Get in a room! Take cover!" I instructed as I slammed into a door on the right side of the hallway.

Rick and Blair went to a room on the left. Daryl found one behind mine.

Once my body was behind a barrier, I stuck the barrel of the rifle out far enough to aim in the Saviors' direction. Then, I squeezed the trigger. Lead from their retaliation hit the door frame, and chunks of metal rained down.

I started to pull my gun back when I was abruptly dragged by my hair deeper into the room. The rifle clattered to the ground as I clawed at the hands pulling me. I kicked and wriggled around but I couldn't free myself from his grip.

"Rick!" I screamed. "Rick!"

My cries for help were useless. There was too much sound from the fight.

I dug my nails into my captor's skin as hard as I could. I could feel the flesh snap and warm liquid run over my fingertips.

"You're going to die, bitch!" the man said, releasing me.

I scrambled to my feet, unsheathing my knife in the process. I instantly swung it into the large man's chest before he got the chance to react. He hollered in pain but still had enough awareness to punch me in the ribs twice and then once in the face, making it impossible for me to take the weapon out of him.

The force of the blows caused me to fall onto the floor. My head was spinning and my breathing became labored. The man shook his hand while he glared down at me. Through the fog in my mind, I saw him look at my gun on the floor. He turned his back to me and started for it.

I control my fate.

A belt was on the ground next to me. I snatched it, pushed myself up through the soreness, and ran at the man. As he bent down to grab my gun, I jumped on his back and wrapped my legs around his stomach. I tightened the belt around his throat.

"You're the one who's goin' to die," I said in his ear, anger filling my veins.

The man tried to rip the belt away, but my grip was stronger, especially in his weakened state from my previous attack. His next attempt to stop choking was to slam me against the wall repeatedly. My determination to live was more persistent than the pain. I pulled the leather even harder.

After about thirty seconds, his movements became less aggressive. He began to stumble and sway. He pawed at the belt again, but this time it took little effort for me to resist.

Then, he began to fall. I dove off of him before he could crush me beneath his giant frame.

Although he wasn't moving anymore, I wasn't going to take any chances. I picked up the rifle and shot the man in the head. I scowled down at him, mirroring his former action.

I aggressively pulled my knife out of his chest. I then ripped open his shirt and lightly carved a scythe into his torso.

The gunfire in the hallway ceased. I held my throbbing ribs as I walked toward my family.

"Jolene!" Rick called out when the light washed over me. He jogged over and looked me up and down.  His gentle touch was a stark contrast to the harshness I had just experienced at the hands of another man. "What happened?"

"An asshole got the jump on me. He beat me up good but I took him down," I answered. I glanced at the bodies littering the floor. By the sound of it, the battle was still happening in the rest of the building.

Rick nodded while grabbing my hand, pride and relief crossed his face.

"Are you okay?" Blair asked, pushing a piece of red hair out of her eyes. I could feel the worry radiating off of her.

"I'm okay enough to keep movin'. Let's go."

Daryl nodded and pushed forward while remaining in front of Blair like a human shield. I relaxed a little knowing someone else was looking out for her as fiercely as me.

Rick ran by my side, ready to support me if my legs gave out or the fire inside my being dimmed. My body ached with each step but I didn't let it show. If I stopped now, it would mean certain death. I wasn't just fighting for myself, I was fighting for all of Alexandria; my family, and my friends.

I glanced over to Rick as his curls bounced and his blue eyes squinted, ready to kill at a moment's notice. It was easy to understand why people chose to follow and fear him. He was a force to be reckoned with, a raging storm, a torch in a dark cavern. Seeing his fortitude only added fuel to my flames.

We came to the end of the hallway with a singular door with a small square window. Just as Daryl was about to enter, a man came through. Daryl knocked him to the ground by hitting him with his shotgun. He swung the butt of the gun down over and over again into the man's head until blood coated the weapon.

It seemed like we had been fighting for hours--and we probably were--the men just kept coming. I felt like I was trapped in an ocean swell. We had only seconds to breathe before another wave hit us, the salty water filling our mouths. Nevertheless, we persevered. Then, eventually, the sea calmed and I could see the lighthouse beaming in the distance.

All of us had regrouped on the north side of the compound. Rick pulled a roll-up door, revealing a rising sun, our line of vehicles, and the towering satellite dish. Our guards were still up despite not seeing or hearing anyone for at least five minutes. We combed the area, looking between cars and out into the woods.

Rick whistled, signaling our freedom from danger.

That's when the throbbing finally hit me again. My adrenaline had been pumping so much when battling our way out that it slipped away. I huffed as I sat in the tall grass, attempting to alleviate my discomfort. Blair sat beside me and examined her leg.

"It's still bleedin'," I stated. Her jeans had turned crimson.

"Trust me, I'm well aware. Not that bad though, it's slowed down quite a bit," she said, trying to wave it off.

I shook my head before painstakingly taking off my jacket. Every movement I made sent a sharp sting through my ribs. I bared my teeth, crinkled my nose, and took deep breaths through a clenched jaw. I leaned into my lap for a moment to recover.

"You're doing great I see," Blair teased.

I held out my right arm. "Cut off my sleeve."

"What?"

"To wrap around your leg."

"Jol-"

"Blair, just do it. Last thing we need is you bleedin' out."

My sister sighed and pulled out her knife. She carefully pierced the fabric with the sharp tip. "You love tearin' up your shirts."

"It's my favorite pastime," I said, turning my palm to the sky so she could slice the rest of the fabric. Blair ripped the sleeve off before securing it around her thigh.

I furrowed my eyebrows and shot her a half smile. "Can you put my jacket back on?" I pleaded. She gingerly slipped the cover on my arms without protest.

After saying their goodbyes, Tara and Heath left on their two-week run in the small camper. We had just gotten a good amount of supplies, but we would eventually need more. It was better to have an abundance than to have nothing. I refused to scavenge desperately and starve again.

Rick walked over to us, still alert, his finger next to the trigger. "You two ready to pack the vehicles?"

"Yup. If you help me up," I answered.

He held out one hand.

"I'm gonna need both if I'm goin' to get off the ground."

Rick raised an eyebrow. "Why?'

"You'll see," Blair said with a smirk.

Rick slung the gun on his back before offering his other hand. I gripped his calloused skin and he pulled me up like my body wasn't on fire. A loud groan exploded from my mouth. Rick helped stabilize me by holding my shoulders. His eyes were wide and he touched me like if he made one more wrong move, I'd crumble.

"What's wrong?" he questioned.

"Ribs," I told him.

"Mind helpin' another injured gal out?" Blair prompted, her arm outstretched.

"Of course," Rick nodded. He assisted my sister so she was upright.

"Maybe you two should wait in the car while we do the work." Rick rubbed my arm comfortingly.

I pointed a finger at him. "Fine, I will. But you better get me a couple of those marijuana plants from that room we passed."

Rick chuckled. "Anythin' for you."

"Tha-" I began before the roar of an engine cut me off.

A bald man sped out of the exit we took on a motorcycle--one that looked very familiar.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl's voice boomed over the rumble, instantly confirming my suspicions.

Rosita shot at the man causing him to fly off the motorcycle. The vehicle fell to its side and tore up the grass as it spun to a stop.

My adrenaline pumping again, I ran along with everyone else toward the man. Daryl was the first to get to him. He tackled the man and landed three strong punches across his face. I aimed my gun at the Savior's head.

"Where'd you get the bike?" He questioned aggressively.

Rick clicked the hammer of his gun and stuck it in the man's face when he didn't respond right away.

"Just do it!" the bald man shouted through the blood pouring from his mouth. "Like you did with everyone else, right?!"

Rick tilted his head as he decided what should be done with our enemy.

Before he could speak, a female voice came over the walkie-talkie saying, "Lower your guns, pricks." Rick and I met fearful eyes. "You two, with the Colt Python and the M16." My head swiveled around, trying to spot the source of the voice. Rick and I kept our guns raised. "All of you, lower your weapons now."

Rick bent down and picked up the walkie-talkie. "Come on out," he said. "Let's talk.

"We're not coming out, but we will talk. We've got a Carol and a Maggie."

My stomach dropped to my feet. I instantly looked at Glenn. His gritting teeth juxtaposed with his eyes brimming with tears. I nodded at him, silently telling him we'd get her back.

"I'm thinking that's something you want to chat about," the woman said, twisting the knife. "Now we're going to work this out right now, and it's going to go our way."

The sheriff's eyes had an intense anger behind them. He looked like he was about to combust. He gestured to the man on the ground. "Get him up," he instructed. Daryl yanked him to his feet. Rick brought the radio to his mouth. "You can see we have one of yours. We'll trade."

Glenn pointed his pistol at the Savior's head, his fear and desperation taking over.

"I'm listening."

"First I want to talk to Maggie and Carol, make sure they're all right."

It was only seconds that passed, but it felt like hours waiting for a response. What if they were lying? What if Maggie and Carol were already dead?

"Rick, it's Carol." I was filled with relief when her voice came through. She sounded frightened, the opposite of the strong-willed woman I knew. "I'm--I'm fine, but-"

"Rick, it's Maggie." Glenn watched the forest as he hopelessly tried to find his wife. It was good to hear her voice, but it made me even more intent on getting my sister back. "We're both okay. We'll figure thi-"

"Maggie!" Glenn cried. Glenn's face pleaded with Rick. "You have to do something."

"You have your proof, let's talk," the woman spoke.

Rick's jaw tensed. "Alright, this is the deal right here. Let 'em go and you can have your guy back and live," he stated.

"Two for one, that's not much of a trade."

"You don't have another choice or you would've done somethin' about it already."

Static played over the walkie-talkie. I readjusted my hold on the rifle because my palms became slick as the anticipation built up inside me.

"Why aren't they answering?" Glenn anxiously asked.

"It's okay. They're probably decidin' what to do. I'll push 'em along," Rick reassured his friend. He clicked the button. "Look, I know you're talkin' it over. It's a fair trade. Just come out, we do this, we all walk away. Do we have a deal?"

"I'll get back to you," the woman said.

"God dammit!" shouted Glenn as he started pacing back and forth.

Sasha lowered her scope, her burning rage evident.

"You see anything?" I asked her.

The little shred of hope I had vanished when she shook her head. "Nothing."

Rick nodded with a newfound confidence. "We'll find 'em," he told us.

"How? They could be anywhere," Michonne said.

"Daryl will track 'em. Their people were just killed and they need this one back. They'll be desperate and sloppy, especially with two hostages." Rick pointed to a stretch of the trees ahead of us. "Rosita, Gaberial, pull two cars out. Daryl, Glenn, and I will search here first. They had to have had a clear view of us. Everyone else, clear out any useful supplies and take them back to Alexandria. We'll meet you there."

Before Rick could take a step, I stopped him by stating, "I'm comin' with you."

"No," he shot back. "You're too hurt."

"Rick, it's Maggie."

"I know bu-"

"Let her come," Glenn interjected, planting his feet beside. "Maggie needs her. I need her."

I gave the man a thankful expression. He returned the gesture.

A defeated sigh escaped from Rick's mouth. "Fine. Gabriel, stay back and help the others. Jo, get the car."

I hugged Blair and told her I'd see her at home. She was worried for me—of course—but now she'd seen what I can do, what I can endure. So, she knew I was telling her the truth.

Even if Rick insisted I not go, I would've anyway. He would forgive me, but I would never forgive myself. Carol has saved my life and my sisters' lives; I owe her everything. Maggie has been my closest friend since I met this group. She's developed into someone I couldn't live without. I was doing this for her and my unborn Godchild.

I turned the car on and gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, ready for whatever was heading our way.

We control our fate.