"You don't need the knife," he told the woman, "We can talk,"

"No, this is over," she said, shaking her head.

"We can be better than them," Morgan pressed on.

"We are better than them," she shot back.

"Not if we kill," he said, silencing her for a moment.

She didn't say a word for a few seconds but finally she spoke again.

"They made us kill," she continued, "We had to stop it. I had to stop it,"

"With life, there's possibility, even if we never let him out," Morgan tried to calm her down.

"I'd get out," Owen piped up, watching the exchange intently.

I suppressed a giggle at that, covering my mouth with my hand. Owen glanced over at me and smirked. I rolled my eyes playfully and bit my lip.

"Even if we never let him out, he could know what he's done. He could know-" Morgan argued.

"I don't want to have to kill you, Morgan," she threatened him.

I smiled, watching the back-and-forth conversation.

"You won't,"

"I will,"

"You can't. I won't let you,"

The woman waved the knife around.

"I will kill you to kill him because I don't want anyone else to die," she said, raising her voice slightly.

"You should kill me. But you're all going to die. You don't belong here," Owen said, suddenly.

His voice was low and eerie as he spoke, capturing everyone's attention. I found myself agreeing with him. I didn't want these people dead but how could they treat us this way? To lock us up like animals in a cage? And with Owen wounded like he was and still threatening to kill him.

"You tell me you're sure. You tell me you know what'll happen, how it will go. Please step aside. I'm not asking you again," she said, her voice becoming venomous.

Morgan smiled slightly and I saw a hint of malice lurking there. Suddenly, he swung his staff and knocked the knife out of the woman's hand. She immediately pulled another knife out of her pocket and lunged towards him with it. He ducked and she kicked him in the legs, making him fall to the floor. Just as this happened, I heard a rustling sound beside me and turned to see Owen slowly getting up off the floor. Sneaky devil had found the distraction we'd been needing all along.

The woman crawled to the knife then and stretched out her fingers, trying to reach it as Morgan pulled on her legs. Kicking him in the face with her boot, she grabbed the knife and got up. As she did this, Owen crawled over to me and gestured for me to follow his lead. I pecked his lips in thanks and got up off the floor too. The woman lunged at Morgan again but he dodged it, instead grabbing her by the arms. Owen took the Bo Staff in his hands as the woman caught Morgan in a headlock and they wrestled until he slammed her to the floor.

She was knocked out cold instantly. He knelt over her, panting. Suddenly, Owen whacked Morgan in the back with a satisfying crack!

"NO!" Denise cried out, crawling over to the now unconscious Morgan.

Owen picked up the knife from Morgan's back pocket with his still-bound hands. He pointed it towards Denise, leaning his head back in triumph. I bit my lip, butterflies erupting in my stomach at how attractive he looked just now. Something so wrong shouldn't feel so right, I thought to myself. But I didn't have time to think about that right now. We had the upper hand.

Owen and I would make it out of this. He bent down and cut his binds. Then he cut mine as well.

"Please? Please don't," she pleaded.

"Don't what?" he asked, smiling maliciously.

"Don't kill them. You said they were already dead. You said I was. You don't need to kill us. Just let us die. Just let us die," she begged him.

He chuckled and stalked towards Denise, knife pointed at her. She moved away from him and pressed her back to the wall.

"You are so full of it!" she shouted at him, flinching away from the knife.

He laughed cruelly.

"You're what I like about people," he told her.

Suddenly, a group of people burst into the room - two dark-haired women and a man with a mullet. The women held guns in their hands and they were aimed at us. Just then, Owen grabbed Denise and held the knife to her throat.

"Just be still," Owen cooed to her but she wriggled in his grasp.

"Don't!" she pleaded with him.

I bent down and picked up the other knife that lay on the floor near Morgan and the woman. Pointing it at the group, I stayed close to Owen. He shot them a glare, his dark brown eyes cold.

"Lower the guns," he demanded calmly.

When they didn't comply, he repeated it. Finally, they lowered their weapons.

"Good. Slide them over. I want them," he snarled at them.

Sliding their weapons across the floor to us with their booted feet, Owen pocketed his knife and traded it for a handgun. He put it to Denise's head and started towards the door. I aimed my own gun at the group and followed right behind him, keeping a close eye on them.

"You don't need her," one of the women said to him.

Owen smiled maliciously.

"No. I don't," he grinned before ordering her, "Back! Back!"

"You're not gonna make it out there," the woman told us solemnly.

Another vindictive smile crossed my psycho boyfriend's face.

"We'll see." he grinned again before we exited the tiny white room.

The gate squeaked as I pushed it open, letting us out into the bright sunlight. But what we saw before us made my blood run cold. The whole street was swarming with walkers. The wall had collapsed.