Riley sat in the backseat of a car, ears tingling as a response to the loud boom of a canon that barred less than a minute ago. Rick had already gathered by the front fence lines of the prison, a small group with him. The Governor stood atop a truck a few yards away from the vehicle Riley herself was kept in with Hershel and Michonne, he yelled to all those in earshot his one and only request. Stationed like a downplayed army outside the fences of the prison, the Governor's people had crowded in trucks and cars with canons and rifles, all scattered weapons aimed solely on the prison. 

"It's not up to me," The faint sound of Rick's voice yelling from the blacktop uphill rolled down to the semicircle of his enemies. It was through the open doors of the car that Riley could just barely make out his voice. "There's a council now, they run this place."

"Is Hershel on the council?" The Governor called back in a monotone reply. 

Upon his words, almost like a cue, a figure appeared in the view of the door opposite of Riley, a woman. She held a large gun in his arms, and she reached inside of the vehicle to pull the elderly man up.

"Hershel?" Riley's voice was battered, the uneasiness that filled her body tumbling out of her mouth along with the single word. The Greene said nothing, instead looking back at the girl with what could assume was a face of attempted comfort. His calmness did nothing to soothe the growing storm in the young girl's stomach.

"What about Michonne?" The Governor's voice was flat, no emotion pairing with the ridicule, leaving it alone to stand blindingly bright. "She on the council too?"

Riley's head turned toward the older woman next to her the second the phrase dropped from the Governor's mouth and had landed upon her ears. It was like the adults were playing the quiet game as of the last hour and had left Riley to figure it out on her own. Michonne said nothing to Riley, just nodding her head in a gesture that said, it'll be okay, just stay calm.

But how could Riley stay calm in a moment like this? Where she and two of the people she cared most about were being used to try and convince only the most stubborn people left living on the planet to hand over their home? The girl knew they wouldn't, they wouldn't give up the place they worked so hard for and the people the fought to protect. Did that mean one of the three captives were going to die? The Governor had said no one had to, but he didn't say no one was going to.

"How about Riley?" 

Upon hearing her own name, the girl felt every bone in her body go numb, her muscles turned to jelly as a fear so distinct from any other she'd ever felt before spiked her body. She glanced toward the open door both Hershel and Michonne had left through and saw the same woman who'd taken the Greene appear once again. Her face was softened, as if she was beginning to regret multiple decisions in her life that had led up to the moment they were present in. She looked at Riley with a face of sympathetic gentleness as she patted the seat in front of her, indicating for the young girl to move over to that seat and climb out. Riley did as told, the fear of defying any orders and earning a punishment toward herself or her other two people moving her body for her. Once her feet hit the ground, the woman held onto her arm and moved her into the clearing created by the half circle of cars and trucks that Hershel and Michonne were in the middle of.

The woman tugged her down slightly until Riley was on her knees, the material of her pants colliding with the grass below her. She felt vulnerable, weak, like the center piece of a ticking time bomb destined to destroy everything within a matter of minutes.

"I don't make decisions anymore." Rick cried from his position on the prison grounds. The apprehension was evident in his voice. He didn't know what to do.

"You're making the decisions today, Rick." The Governor said as if the whole ordeal was just a simple misunderstanding that he was clearing out for the man. "Come down here, and let's... let's have that talk."

Rick didn't say anything else. He turned around, facing Daryl and a few others right near him for assurance. He turned toward someone else there, someone smaller who wore a sheriff's hat atop his mess of brown hair. Riley watched as Rick left to open the gate, she watched as Carl ran up and took his father's place in front of the fence to get a clearer look. She didn't see the gun almost taller than she was just behind her, but she could feel it. Feel the warnings it gave off, the threat that radiated so strongly from it that she could perceive it. 

The closer Rick got, the more anxious Riley became. Every step closer to the fences separating the two vile groups was another step closer to the war bound to happen. Her eyes traced Rick's every move, and when he finally picked his head up to meet her gaze, she could practically read the fear written on his face like inky black words on a snow white page.

"Let 'em go, right now." Rick said once he was close enough to speak at a normal volume level. "And I'll stay down here. Talk as long as you want, but you let 'em go."

The Governor stayed still, glare cast upon Rick with such vengeance in his heart that Riley could nearly taste the bitterness in her mouth.

"You got a tank, you don't need hostages." 

"I do." The Governor said before gesturing to the large weapon behind him. "This is just to show you I'm serious, not to blast a hole in our new home."

Rick stared at the man with desperation etched in every crease in his skin. His breathing was heavy and sweat was dripping along his face. The sight of the Grimes being pulled apart in a fit of distress made Riley feel a new low of helplessness. The queasiness in her stomach turned into a full on rager, and she was surprised she didn't throw up on the grass right then and there. Perhaps, it was the tiny hope, the little sprinkle inside of her that she always kept alive holding her together.

"You and your people, you have until sundown to get out of here, or they die." The Governor warned, his tone so painfully serious that Riley could see some of his own people glance at each other nervously out of the corner of her eye. The Endicott felt the blood drain from her face at his sentence. There, it was spoken. If Rick didn't oblige to the Governor's terms he would kill her, kill all three of them. An overpowering sensation of pure terror overcame her, her hands beginning to shake violently in their bindings behind her back.

"She's a kid." Rick's hand flung out towards Riley, his voice cracking.

"We got our own kids too."

"Doesn't have to go down this way."

"I got more people, more firepower." The Governor laughed as if he couldn't believe Rick's stupidity. "We need this prison."

Rick shook his head for a second, a small battle tearing his own mind in half beneath himself.

"There it is. It's not about the past, it's about right now." The Governor continued, beginning to close off any more debate.

"There are children here. Some of them are sick, they won't- they won't survive." Rick pleaded.

"I have a tank." The Governor's voice raised in itching agitation, the scratching perturbation making Riley's skin crawl. "And I'm letting you walk away from here. What else is there to talk about?"

Rick's head fell, heavy with the weight of defeat. He began to back up.

"I could shoot you all." The Governor continued, tone softening now as if seriously considering the idea. "You'd all shoot back, I know that. But we'll win and you'll be dead. All of you. Doesn't have to be like that, like I said. It's your choice."

A snarl behind Riley instantly made the hairs on her neck stand upright. The sound doubled, and she was suddenly aware of the walkers beginning to take notice of the fresh food right in the open for them. With her hands tied tightly around her back, Riley had no way to defend herself, her bow and arrows were hanging on the trunk of the car she was previously kept in, and regardless, she wouldn't be able to retrieve them as she had multiple sets of eyes watching her every move fiercely.

Three gunshots rang.

Riley flinched at the first two, and when the growling had ceased the obvious threat grew larger in detail. The Governor had shot them, and three bullets was all it took to eliminate a threat too far away from them to even do any damage yet.

"Noise will only draw more of them over. The longer you wait, the harder it'll be for you to get out of here."

Rick gazed at the Governor, eyes begging a silent plead that was only rejected harsher each time. He looked over at Hershel, then at Michonne, then at Riley. He shook his head, looking around in desperation as the man with the eyepatch only reasoned further, shoving Rick farther and farther into the corner he was already backed up in.

"We can all-" Rick's voice cracked as he looked back up to the Governor again, eyebrows raising in anguish. "We can all live together. There's enough room for all of us."

"More than enough, but I don't think my family would sleep well knowing that you were under the same roof."

"We'd live in different cell blocks. We'd never have to see each other 'till we're all ready."

"It could work." A voice said from much closer than the two arguing ones. Hershel turned back to look at the Governor. "You know it could."

Riley felt a fragment of ease fall over her at the second voice, a small prayer in her head repeating the phrases of hope over and over again that this whole mess would soon be over. No one would die, no one would fall victim to the hands of an unfortunate fate on a day they didn't have to. The day was truly so beautiful on the given date, the birds were chirping despite the circumstances, the grass for miles out was lush and green and the air was warm with a whistle of cool wind passing by every now and then. It was like a war in the head of its beautiful beholder.

"It could've, but it can't. Not after Woodbury." The Governor's tone was stern, but a taste of despair traveled alongside the firmness. "Not after Andrea."

Riley's lips pressed together as her face contorted into an undeniable expression of affliction at the mention of the name. Andrea. Her Andrea, the woman who taught her what true independence really was. Those people that always said you only need yourself, that you really could do anything if you just tried hard enough, that was Andrea for Riley. She had always believed in the younger girl, ever since the beginning, and it wasn't the bull faced lie adults gave kids to make them feel important, Andrea made Riley important. She made her valuable.

Rick and the Governor went back and forth still, to the point the whole conversation seemed to be two men caught in a whirlpool, spinning around the same circle with no exit until the man inside the safe walls of the fence spoke last.

"We can all live in the prison or none of us can."

As if the sentence provoked a dangerously savage reaction inside of him, the Governor jumped down from the hood of the truck he was previously perched upon, the sheer sound of a sword being drawn sliced the peace in half as the man muttered to himself and his nearby comrades before the sound of his boots against the hard packed dirt grew louder. He stood behind Hershel, the sword to the man's neck as a final warning.

Rick stepped back, his face overcome in disbelief. He shook his head, trying to delete the image from his eyes but it stayed in front of him, staining his vision in a sickeningly gruesome filter.

Riley's body was bent over, her gaze locked on Hershel's side profile as he closed his eyes, feeling the blade of the katana against the skin of his neck. Riley's jaw was slacked, her mouth open in utter horror as her lungs and intestines grew tight and hot, as if being squeezed by an iron fist.

"You- you in the green jacket, is this what you want?" Rick's desperation seeped through his skin, his voice high as he debated with people on the captive's side of the fence. A young Asian man holding a gun that was clearly too heavy for him glanced around nervously under Rick's pressuring question. He swallowed and tried to readjust the firearm in his hands as he watched the Governor press the blade against Hershel's neck even tighter. "Is this what any of you want?"

"What we want is what you got." Spoke the man in charge of the tank. His voice was deep and unsettlingly calm, as if the whole ordeal was just a casual part of his day. "Period. Time for you to leave, asshole."

"Look, I fought him before. And after, we took in his old friends. They've become leaders in what we have here. Now, you put down your weapons, walk through those gates... you're one of us." 

An uncomfortable shift weaved through the crowd of people behind Riley, all of them weighing out their two options carefully as Rick continued.

"We let go of all of it, and nobody dies. Everyone who's alive right now, everyone who's made it this far. We've all done the worst kinds of things just to stay alive. But we can still come back, we're not too far gone."

The sword was lifted from Hershel's neck slowly, inching slightly away.

"We get to come back. I know, we all can change." Rick's voice was shattered, and all the little shards of his words were scattered through the holes of the fence and tore cuts through Riley's skin, but instead of blood erupting, tears did. Of fear, of shame, of hope, of relief. Everything that was piled into her small body was flooded out through the openings in her frame. She could nearly see the way everything could play out: she was let go, released from captivity with Hershel and Michonne right beside her. The people she was surrounded by would walk into the prison, would call it their new home, and the Governor would leave behind any trace of revenge. She would run back to Sawyer, she would tell him she was okay, that Beth was okay, that Hershel was. Everything would be okay.

Then again, dreams were just dreams for a reason. And it was all too good to be true.

"Liar."

Riley couldn't see the way the blade came down on Hershel's neck, but she could hear it. The thump when the sword made impact and his throat was severed in half, the squelching of the blood as it ran down his body by the gallon, the gasps of the people surrounding her, Maggie's bloodcurdling scream that echoed loudly despite the distance. The gunshots. The yelling. Rick shouting. Michonne choking. All of it.

Riley looked backwards when a thud sounded and the vibrations tickled her knees through the ground. Hershel's body fell sideway, and the crimson red of his ruby blood was spilling. Everywhere. Down his body, over his beard, into his eyes, all over the grass. His eyelids were open, and his face had no emotion, he was completely still except for the liquid escaping his open wound. Despite all of that, Riley could tell he was still alive.

A sharp and instant gasp came like a smothered scream from the girl. In a mad fit of hyperventilation, everything around her dimmed, the sounds, the sights, the feel of it all. The only thing she could see was the man she had looked to like a grandfather as he lay dying, choking on his own blood in the grass. Riley's chest moved up and down furiously fast, an eruption of grief encased tears cascading down her face. A sob, wrecked with horror and pain sounded from her, her only true horror of the day coming to life right in front of her eyes.

"Go!" A voice shouted, but Riley couldn't tell who it was or where it was from. Everything around her was silenced by a sharp ringing in her ears, all sounds drowned out as her skull pounded. Her head turned around to look at the chaos regenerating everywhere, but it was like her eyes were lagging, her vision choppy and blurred. 

"What are you doing? Come on!" The same voice yelled even louder, and suddenly a man was in front of Riley, bending down to her eye level. It was the same guy Rick had called out to earlier, the young Korean man in the green jacket. His eyes were swarmed with panic and his gun was hanging loosely around his shoulder.

Riley snapped back to reality with a gasp. Everyone around her was running, some for their lives, some for their next kill, others just so they wouldn't be caught in the middle of the haze. She felt a strange pressure on her wrists until Michonne appeared from behind her, a knife in her hand and it clicked to the young girl that the woman had just cut the ropes binding her. With both hands free and brain finally working, Riley stumbled to her feet, head whipping around as she sought a way out of the mess. 

"Get out of here! Go, now!" The man yelled at her again. Michonne had already left, her katana in her grasp as she defended herself and her prison the best she could regardless of the fact she was severely outnumbered.

Riley separated from the man, not taking a moment longer to stand there before running back towards the trucks. A large woman aimed her gun toward the young brunette, but with her body so small and quick, the woman's shot missed and Riley ducked behind one of the open car doors and climbed underneath the vehicle.

"Okay, okay." She whispered, chest heaving. Her face was still wet with tears, eyes still stinging sharply and the feeling of strangling heartache still painfully apparent, but the only thing she could think to herself in the moment was survive. The snarls and moans of the walkers began to sound again, and Riley could make out their distinct bodies- the way they tripped when they walked, traveling in no specific line and with a slow and tempered pace. "Shit."

She saw the tip of her bow hanging down from the trunk of the car, but she knew she couldn't get over there, climb out from her hiding spot, get her quiver clipped onto her clothing, get her bow into place, and then knock an arrow quick enough to escape, either someone would shoot her down first or a walker would have her as its next meal.

Turning on her back, Riley struggled quietly as she tried to reach down to the boot on her right foot and retrieve the pocket knife she kept hidden inside of it. A breath of exasperation escaped her mouth as she bent down as much as she could until her fingers brushed over the handle. Tugging the blade up with the tips of her appendages, Riley grabbed the small knife and flipped it open, scooting upwards a little underneath the car and scanning the bottom of the vehicle desperately. It was only a few, anxious, seconds before her eyes locked on her target and she raised her arm with the knife. She grunted as she cut open a thick wire, squeezing her eyes shut and closing her mouth as gasoline spilled from the open cut and over her chest and neck. She blindly reached out and grabbed the tube, maneuvering it to spray the liquid all over her body and rubbing it in before turning back onto her stomach and snaking her way toward the back of the truck.

She shoved her knife into her belt loop and glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention- no one was. Crawling halfway out of the underside of the truck, Riley grabbed her quiver and pulled it onto her back, drawing an arrow first. Once the thin spears were in place, she pulled herself the rest of the way out and grabbed her bow, knocking the arrow quickly.

She ran around the truck and tried approaching closer to the prison, desperate to find someone- anyone, although her main targets at the moment were Maggie, Beth, or Rick.

"Come on!" Riley heard a grown man's voice shout, his tone was angry, blinded with rage. He was pulling a woman by the arm, who'd dropped her gun and was fighting the man with all her might, but her strength was nothing compared to his. She couldn't recognize either of them, so she knew they were the Governor's people, but the woman was refusing to spill any blood. Her face was stricken with fear and shock, guiltiness flooding her expression as she tried to tug her arm away from the man despite his yells.

Riley pulled the bowstring back to the crook of her jaw, lowering the arrow with just a slight second to aim before letting the rough material of the cord go. The arrow lodged itself deep into the man's bicep, and an outburst of fury and pain erupted from his throat- but he had let the girl go. The woman turned back to meet Riley's gaze, a look of bewilderment upon her face. She had short, dark hair in little pigtails, and her tan skin illuminated bronze in the sunlight. She stood up, and she seemed torn between speaking a word of thanks or a plead not to make her the next arrow's victim, but the mayhem and disorganization all around them caused her brain to lack critical speaking skills. Riley didn't wait for her.

She drew another arrow and knocked it as she sprinted, she avoided gunshots the best she could- one whizzing right past her and breaking the fabric of her flannel, but missing her own flesh, fortunately. Most people were caught in fights with each other or running for the sake of their lives- from people and walkers alike. Avoiding the walkers was easy enough for Riley, as the strong smell of gasoline covered her scent for the most part, but she still tried not to linger around the clusters of cannibals. Her legs repeated the same motion of rushing against time and threats both, the feel of grass and rocks and clothes and bullets all beneath the sole of her shoes, but she ignored every sound and person and scream until she was on prison grounds. The fences of the prison were destroyed, broken through completely by the tanks and cars pummeling through them. Riley watched as the thriving garden that she, Rick, Carl, and Hershel had worked on for months on end get trampled under the dark wheels of a truck. All around her everything was broken to a ruin, everyone had blended together until the only difference she could make between people were walkers and humans.

The insanely heavy feeling pressure and fear began to distill itself upon her until she heard her name be called from a short distance. Turning around, Riley saw the twins- Samson and Nessa run up to her.

"Riley!" Nessa yelled, closing in on the girl with her brother right at her side. "Are you okay?"

"Where's Sawyer? And Meg?" Riley asked desperately, running up to meet the girl. "Are they okay?"

"Meg's getting Sawyer from the sick ward, they're getting on the bus going out- hey, are you okay?" Samson stepped up to the girl, eyes wild with shock.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Riley nodded, even though she was anything but fine. She was terrified, nauseous, and she just saw Hershel get a blade through his neck, bleeding to death on the grass. 

"Okay, well, you don't look fine." Nessa said, shaking her head. "What the fuck do we do?"

"Nessa, go to the bus." Riley replied, trying to keep her voice steady when talking to the girl. The best approach- especially when Nessa was frantic- was to keep instructions as clear and simple as possible, the youngest brunette had learned that lesson long ago. "Take the path near the fences by the gates, okay? Don't let anyone see you, keep low and hide behind any shelter you can find along the way."

"What about you?" Nessa asked. "We can't leave you here! That's not what friends do."

"You can't use a gun." Riley's voice was fading in exasperation. "And a hand knife isn't going to protect you- not against this. Just get to the bus, I'll meet you guys there."

"What about you?" Sam asked. The expression of worry was sealed over his face, and despite the troubles all around them, that look was enough to startle Riley even more than she already was. Sam was never not serious, he was always joking, making a fool of things, it was the only coping mechanism Riley had even seen him use- and truthfully it was just his personality. But the look of instilled fear and turmoil in his features revealed a whole new side to him, and the only thing it did was raise the realization of how royally screwed they all really were.

Riley opened her mouth, when a fight over Nessa's shoulder caught her eye. "I need to do something, it'll be quick. But you guys need to go, now."

She departed from the twins, running further into the great fields and over to the tussle between the two men she'd recently caught sight of. The Governor was on top of Rick, his fist, bloodied and tight came repeatedly down on the old sheriff's face. The Grimes man was weak, his head clocking to the side with every blow he received, blood spurting even more from his worsening wounds after each hit. The scene repeated rhythmically, over and over until the Governor had stopped, hands wrapping around Rick's neck instead as he squeezed. Tight, tighter, so harshly to the point Rick didn't have enough oxygen left in him to fight his opponent off, all energy leaving his body as his arms fell weakly, head lolling back.

The Governor's face was contorted into a look of pure vengeance, all humanity stripped from his soul until all that was left was the demon inside of him. 

Riley drew an arrow, knocking it without taking a second to think as she pulled the string backwards. She felt the tips of her fingers brush the soft skin of her jaw, the long line of the wood connecting with the sharpened metal head at the end. Her aim was direct, she knew she'd hit her mark, she knew she'd save Rick, she knew she would kill someone. In all honest truth, the thought of doing so repulsed her greatly. Who was she, to take the life of somebody else all because they had wronged her? She wasn't any God, she wasn't any more valuable or important than anyone else simply because of actions made and words said, she didn't have that kind of power, she couldn't have that kind of power. It wasn't right, it wasn't moral, and it wasn't her choice. 

She held her grip on the bow tighter, drawing an even breath as the fatigue in her arm warned her that time was ticking. 

Hesitation, hesitation, hesitation.

That was the greatest enemy, the fear and the pureness of her young soul were the only thing that kept her restrained, and she grit her teeth achingly. She only had a few seconds, a few seconds at tops.

Rick's eyes began to close, his muscles beginning to go still as he stopped fighting completely. The Governor's hands grew tighter and he leaned closer over the slowly dying man's body. He was almost winning. He almost won.

Riley released her fingers, arrow spiraling out from the hold she had it in and through the air. It passed bullets searing through the scene, it passed bodies falling to the ground, it passed in and out of thick clouds of smoke from burning wreckages.

It passed through the Governor's neck.

Riley paused, bow lowering as the Governor went still, blooding beginning to seep from his throat and his mouth, splattering onto Rick's skin as he fell over onto the grass. Dead. Just as he had driven a sword through Hershel's neck, Riley had shot an arrow through his.

Rick gasped on the ground, and Riley ran over, falling to her knees as she tried to help him sit up.

"Rick," Her voice was hoarse as she tried to support his weight. "Rick, are you okay?"

The man nodded, coughing and heaving as he did so. "We need to go."

"I know. Come on." The girl tried to help him stand, knees nearly buckling at his weight, but she carried on.

She glanced around, the prison was smoking as an effect of the tank blowing multiple holes through its once stable walls. Walkers were roaming everywhere, people were dying on the floor,  other people were already turned, a few struggled to pull themselves to safety behind shelter. As much as she scanned the area, though, Riley could only see damage and chaos, she couldn't place her eyes on anyone else. She couldn't see Sawyer or Meg, she couldn't see Maggie or Beth. Everyone else's faces were blurred. She panted, nerves beginning to electrocute her body as her head whipped around.

"Go find them." Rick said, voice so scratched Riley could barely understand them. "Go find Meg and Sawyer."

"What? No, I'm not leaving you." Riley shook her head, desperate to keep moving and getting the man out of the war zone.

"I'll be okay, go."

"Rick-"

"Now."

Riley hesitated for just a moment, before remembering her hesitation almost got Rick killed just moments before. She ran off, drawing another arrow as she zipped through fires and walkers and people all around.

"Sawyer!" She screamed, her voice cracking. "Meg!"

"Riley?" The sound of her stepmother's voice had never sounded so sweet. The woman came running from behind a wall of the building. Her skin was pale, her under eyes dark and clashing horridly with her whitening complexion. Sweat was beaded all along her flesh, soaking through her clothes, running down her face. She staggered slightly as she walked, heaving with every step. Riley had to do a double take to be sure the woman in front of her was really her stepmother.

"Meg? What's wrong, what happened to you?" Riley asked with agitating fear poisoning her voice. She ran up to Meg, lowering her bow and holding onto the woman's shoulder to try and support her weakened body.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Meg said. She leaned slightly against Riley for support, the girl quickly obliging to the new weight. "You're brother was supposed to go on the bus. He's- he's there right now."

"Then we have to go, we have to get there before it leaves." Riley stated desperately. She readied her bow with its arrow in case they stumbled upon another opponent as they made the travel toward the bus.

She started to walk, pace quickening before she remembered the position she had found Meg in in the first place. She turned around, lowering her weapon in case she needed to use one of her arms to assist the woman on making the distance.

"Can you make it there?" She asked, glancing around as more gunfire echoed around the smoking area.

"I'll be okay." Meg nodded, grunting as she forced her body to move forward, but grabbing the sleeve of Riley's shirt in her dirty, grimy, hand before she continued any farther. "I need you to listen to me. If I stop halfway, and I can't keep going, you leave without me, do you understand?"

Riley's eyebrows ran downwards, lips parting as she shook her head. "I'm not leaving you here."

"Riley-"

"No, I won't let you die here. I'm not leaving you, if that bus leaves without you it'll leave without me too." 

"It's not safe, I'm not kidding, Riley." Meg said. Her voice was severely serious, like she were trying to make her last words stick to the skull of her stepdaughter forcefully. "Promise me."

Riley looked at Meg, breathing heavily and unsteadily as the older woman stared at her and awaited the answer with a face full of anguished impatience.

Riley gave no clear answer, knowing that if she were to make the promise she'd break it in a heartbeat. "Let's go, we're running out of time."

Body weakening by the second she as she supported both her own weight as well as her stepmother's, Riley stumbled over bodies and wreckages, through flames and sideline battles. The end of the bus was in view, the sunshine yellow coloring of its body shining through the bushes planted along random areas of the prison.

Growing more frantic as more minutes passed by, Riley shifted slightly, noticing the way Meg's eyes were fluttering and how her coughs were growing more sickly and brutal as seconds swept by. The haunted sounds only pushed the young brunette to try and move quicker, her only motivation was getting her stepmother on the bus with the knowledge that if it left without them, they'd be stranded in a war zone with a high chance of Meg not even making it through the night. Riley was positive the woman had caught the sickness from Sawyer, if not him someone else. If there was still a shot at saving her, Riley needed to go for it.

A few steps were taken, such a small amount it could be counted on the fingers of one hand before the explosion of a grenade shook the ground. The impact was evidently nearby, as the force of the detonation sent Meg's already unstable body to fall to the broken asphalt, the weight of her falling figure dragging Riley's down with her. As she hit the ground, Riley's arrows spilled from their quiver, a few of them rolling out of arm's distance. With a surge of alarm rushing through her bloodstream, the young archer quickly began to grab as many as she could fit into her hands and drop them back into their case, trying to waste as little time as possible.

It was quite clear soon enough that she wouldn't be able to reach them all in an efficient time frame, so once enough were in her hold she reached for her bow, trying to sling it up around her body again when she realized it was stuck, wedged underneath a large scrap of metal she couldn't quite define. Hysteria began to flood her as she became aware of the fact her only valuable weapon was now crossed off of her defense list, unable to be of use. She tugged on it harshly, but the weight of the metal was directly too heavy for her. She heard the wood scratching from the jagged pieces of hardware, and she stopped pulling at it, instead redirecting herself to stumble to her feet, trying to pull Meg up with her, but her stepmother wouldn't budge.

"Meg," Riley's voice was loud, trying to fight over the ear splitting noise of chaos all around them. The end of the word rising in panic, as if the name in her mouth were a question. "Meg, come on, we need to go."

Meg coughed, body held up by her hands and elbows as blood splattered the pavement. Riley stepped back, a hand covering her mouth at the sight. Her stepmother lifted her head slowly, and just barely, as if the action itself took all the strength she could muster. Her face was doused in sweat, gray tones seeping their way onto her face as blood sprinkled itself along her mouth.

"You need to leave, Riley."

A frail and violent growl erupted from the left of the pair, standing out boldly against the gunshots and the flickering crackles of flames. Riley's head snapped towards the sound, her stomach dropping and halting her movements as the sight of four walkers caught her eye. They careened toward the two, their lifeless eyes locked greedily on their targets as they sauntered over. Two of the small group had blood smeared across their faces, the nauseating sight of guts and flesh hanging from their teeth and staining their battered clothes. Newer details appeared the closer they got, each one more atrocious than the last.

"Meg, come on!" Riley's voice cracked as she tried to pull her stepmother to her feet. "The bus is going to leave without us, we have to go now."

"Go," Meg gasped, her breathing becoming irregular and sharp. "Go without me. You still have time."

"Those walkers will tear you apart." Riley shook her head. She bent down until she was at eye level with the woman. "I told you, I'm not leaving you here."

"If you leave now they'll go after me instead, you'll be able to make it, but you have to go right now."

"No!" Riley yelled, distress tearing at her throat as the familiar feeling of suffocating panic ripped holes through her chest.

"Go!" Meg screamed. The effort it took to raise her voice affirmed to be her last straw. Her elbows caved in, her body falling to the floor entirely.

In a desperate haze, Riley turned back to her bow, gripping it so tightly her hands felt raw as she tried to pull it from under the metal. She kicked at the large piece with her foot, cries eliciting from her mouth at the frustration that stabbed her like a knife repeatedly. The wood on her bow began cracking, the fractures in the material running up the structure of the weapon until Riley could see it clear as day, but she didn't care. She pulled at it harder, the shrieks and snaps of the walkers growing louder and louder until it was confirmed they were only a few yards away.

"Come on!" Riley shouted at the breaking bow in her hands, the soft skin on her palms tearing as splinters shredded her flesh. The sound of nails on a chalkboard creaked as the wood and metal collided, over and over with each tug the girl gave to it, but it was no use.

"Go, Riley!" Meg yelled, only bits and pieces of her words escaping her mouth in clear pronunciation.

Riley ignored her, pulling at the bow until it broke completely, the unbalance kicking her backwards until she fell. The walkers were close, too close, only a few feet away close. She tried to get up and run towards Meg when an hand closed itself around her wrist, hauling her back. She fought the person trying to restrain her, but their second arm wrapped itself around her torso, pushing their weight onto her so she couldn't move.

"No!" She screamed, the horrific scene of a gruesome murder beginning to unfold in front of her eyes. "Let me go! Meg!"

The body jerked her backwards, Riley's feet kicking and dragging along the ground as the walkers closed in on Meg. Sobs and retched cries tore through Riley's throat like glass shards from a shattered window, the strain from the sounds hurting almost as much as the tears stinging her eyes, running down her face and into the open cuts drawn into her skin.

"Run!" Meg's voice faded from exhaustion, but the final word only fell upon deaf ears as Riley fought and protested the person holding her back.

A shout of agony, a shout that had touched every sliver of grief, of heartbreak, of pain and sorrow and betrayal and dejection all within a few short seconds escaped Riley's mouth, weakened sobs falling from her lips. Through the blurry mess of tears fogging up her eyes, she could see Meg's flesh be torn from her bones, the crimson color of her blood spill upon the pavement as her once beautiful and unbroken skin was macerated by the rotting teeth of the walkers. 

The screams from Meg's lips echoed throughout the broken prison, the cracked home that had fallen apart faster than its citizens had time to kiss it goodbye. Riley's own sobs intertwined with Meg's, the two sounds creating sophisticated melody that charmed every nearby ear to undergo the steady flow of soul crushing pain.

Never, in her life, had Riley ever felt more guilt, more helplessness. Meg's cries faded, her life coming to a blissful stop as the walkers devoured not only her body, but her restless animation for the rest of eternity. Soon, only the excruciating sobs that were dragged from Riley's own vocal cords sounded, dancing alone without Meg's screams to accompany it. The arms resisting her from running to her stepmother heaved her back still, but the girl never stopped fighting, never stopped kicking or screaming. Her throat burned from the abuse it had experienced as Riley sobbed, her eyes flaring as she cried. Every muscle in her face felt overworked and her lungs were working desperately to get the amount of air they needed.

She didn't know it was possible to undergo the harsh blow of mental grief so powerful that she could physically feel it. But she knew now. Every part of her body ached, every nerve overstimulated and every bone cracking under the weight of guilt. The phrase 'your fault, your fault, your fault' was clawing at her brain and steaming from her ears. Meg's voice repeated it, over and over. But Meg was dead. She was gone. There was no coming back from it, because all that was left of her was the rest of her flesh the walkers hadn't finished devouring. Riley hadn't even experienced more than a few minutes with the woman gone, but the gaping hole Meg had left with her departure from the earth burned, burned so hot and painfully Riley wasn't sure she could survive it. She already missed her, already felt the undeniable yearning to be held by her mother one last time before she left. But that wish was destroyed, slashed to shreds within only a minute.

"She's gone." Rick said, his mouth by Riley's ear. He held the girl in his arms tightly, trying his hardest in his weakened state to keep her on her feet. "We have to go."

Riley's broke away from his grasp, the feel of anyone touching her overwhelming her body insanely. She wiped the tears from her face with her flannel, but only more came. She cried, and cried, and cried even more. Even though she was walking now, tears fell from her eyes like an everlasting river, the fabric of her shirt doing nothing but irritating the skin on her face. She felt so hollow, so broken, so beaten, but the prison was in flames and her stepmother was dead. She could only pray that her brother and everyone else was okay, even if they were hurt, just okay. If one death ripped her heart down the middle and degraded her conscious so barbarically, she couldn't even bear to think of another happening.

Walking back over to Rick, Riley slipped her body under his arm, noticing the way Carl had done the same at his other side. Carrying the weight of Rick's body and her own suffocating pain, Riley stumbled over the uneven ground until the prison was only a mere image in the distance. Left behind.

Her eyes were trained on the floor, her head too heavy with blinding compunction to raise. For a time period that was so intensely blurred, all she saw was the bloodstained terrain, her eyes ignoring the dead bodies and debris surrounding her. She was also oblivious to the set of eyes on the other side of Rick's body that watched her with an expression overflowing with what one could say was concern and empathy. Although the stare seemed everlasting, Riley couldn't bring herself to notice it, as the only thing flashing in her mind was the spine-chilling image of Hershel and Meg dying and the ruins of her home behind her. She turned her head ever so slightly, the edge of the broken image beginning to seep into sight.

"Don't look back." Rick said. "Just keep walking."

a/n - if there's any typos or mistake i apologize cus there are probably a few of them lol. anyway, prison is down, which means a lot of carl and riley content soonnn!! also would u guys prefer long chapters where i include more scenes and stuff? bc i feel like descriptions take up a lottt of words which makes these chapters so long so not a lot of scenes are in each part. lmk tho cus the more interesting interactions are coming up. i'll see u guys next chapter :))