"Come one step closer I swear to god I'll shoot you," Maisie snarled, releasing the safety on her pistol.

The man took half a step forward and Maisie lowered her gun, firing a round into the dirt, a hair away from the toe of his boot.

"Well, I can't say you didn't warn me," he chuckled nervously, making sure to keep his hands out.

"Who's shooting?" Rick called, running out of the barn. He stopped short behind the man. "Who're you?" he demanded, his hand on his gun.

"I'm Aaron. I'm a friend, I swear."

"You left all that water in the road?" Maggie ventured, her eyes narrowed.

Aaron nodded. Rick stepped forward and grabbed the hood of Aaron's windbreaker, dragging him into the barn and throwing him against the ground once inside.

"How many of you are there?"

"Its just me and a friend."

"Where's your friend?"

"Back at the car."

Rick paused for a second to cast a glance at the faces staring back at him. He nodded at Daryl, eyes following the man as he strode forward, snatching the backpack off the man's back and rooting through it.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked, his gun drawn.

"A few, I guess. I don't really know."

"How many people?"

"Oh, god, none!"

"Rick," Daryl said, brandishing a thin stack from the backpack. Photos.

Rick held out his hand and Daryl passed them over. Maisie looked at them over Rick's shoulder; they were terribly grainy, and in black and white. On the top of the stack was a photo of a steel wall, followed by solar panels, and then pictures that were obviously taken the day before; Sasha shooting the dogs, a behind view of Maisie's crossbow mid drop, Maisie killing the biter with Glenn and the gas can in the background, Daryl wrestling on top of her in the woods.

Rick glared at Aaron, a dangerous glint in his piercing blue eyes. "How long have you been following us?"

"Just since yesterday, I promise."

"What else is in that bag?" Rick asked, turning his attention back on Daryl. Daryl reached inside and pulled out a spare knife, flare guns, and a jar of applesauce.

Maisie jumped when Judith started bawling. She could only imagine the last time she had been able to eat something suitable for a baby. Rick took the jar of applesauce from Daryl and examined it while his henchman handed him a small spoon from the depths of the backpack. Giving Aaron a reproachful look, Rick scooped a large amount of applesauce onto the spoon and held it to Aaron. Aaron promptly recoiled and turned away.

"Please, I didn't come all this way just to poison your baby daughter."

"Eat it," Rick insisted.

Aaron made a pleading face. "Please, don't make me eat it. I hate applesauce. My mother, bless her heart, was a very confused woman and often made me eat things I didn't like to make me tougher. I can no longer eat applesauce, salmon patties, and onions," he added, continuing his plea.

When Rick didn't falter, he frowned and took the applesauce off the spoon, holding it in his mouth. Under Rick's cold gaze, he swallowed hesitantly.

Satisfied, Rick grabbed the jar and squatted infront of Judith to feed her. The baby slowly quieted down as the food hit her stomach.

"Do you have a camp?" Michonne asked.

Maisie turned and looked at the woman she hadn't paid any attention to previously; she stood straight-backed and proud. She looked like someone you didn't want to cross, with a long katana sword sheathed across her back.

"I do. And if you would like to, it can be your camp, too," Aaron said hopefully, shifting uncomfortably on the ground.

"Gee, why don't you tell us a bit about it?" Maisie suggested, an amused tone playing at her voice. She rocked back on her heels, her arms crossed over her chest. Daryl casted an unnoticed, annoyed glance at her.

Aaron swallowed. "It's called Alexandria. It's a walled-off community; a safe-zone, if you will. We have supplies, people, a leader. Eric and I, we're recruiters. We came to bring you to Alexandria."

"Eric?" Rick demanded. "Your friend?"

Aaron nodded slowly. "Our car is just a few miles up the road."

At this, Maisie scoffed. Both Aaron and Rick turned to her.

"If you knew about them, you'd know there's like, what, thirteen grown adults, plus a baby and various weapons, and me, if I go with you—"

"You're goin'," Daryl grunted shortly.

"So, fourteen adults, a baby, a dog, and all our weapons and supplies wouldn't fit in some four door car."

"Y-You misunderstood me. I have the car, Eric has an RV."

"Where is it?" Michonne asked.

"He's at mile marker twenty-three."

"That's not far from here," Rick said, scratching his beard.

"You're going to take a small group of us to your car, the rest of us will find your RV," Rick decided, turning to the group as he talked.

"Glenn, Michonne, Maisie, you're with me and Aaron. Carl, take care of Judith."

Maisie smirked. When Rick said 'Carl', it came out as 'Coral' with his accent.

Rick grabbed the flare guns and tossed one to Maisie, the other to Maggie.

"Can someone take care of Jackson?" Maisie asked, crouching down and fishing a long black leash from her backpack.

"I can."

She looked up to the voice as she straightened up and almost burst into a fit of laughter. In fact, she did.

Doubling over, she clutched the leash to her chest, unable to catch a breath between giggles. When she finally calmed enough, she straightened up again and wiped tears from her cat-like eyes.

"You're kidding, right?" she gasped, blood biting her cheeks.

The man who had offered was dressed head to toe in black, from his shiny dress shoes and slacks, to the oddly clean button up he wore. Of course, she hadn't failed to notice the white band in the collar of his shirt. He was a goddamn priest.

"I don't understand," the man said, running a hand over his bald head.

"You're a priest!"

"Yes," he said slowly.

"You can't possibly believe there's a god in a world like this," Maisie said bluntly, patting her thigh. Jackson came running, his tongue hanging from his mouth. She bent down, clipping the leash to the silver loop on his harness, and pressed the leash into the man's hands.

"A biter gets him, you better hope it gets you too," she calmly threatened, picking up her crossbow and slinging it across her back.

Rick grabbed the front of Aaron's windbreaker and hauled him to his feet, his hands tied securely behind his back. Glenn kissed Maggie before he and Michonne stepped forward, their own weapons held on their person.

"Whoever gets to the RV first sends a flare into the sky, got it? Good. Let's go." With that said, Rick gripped the back of Aaron's jacket and pushed him out ahead of the quartet.

〄

"Wow, Maisie, we've all thought about it but no one has actually laughed in Gabriel's face like that," Glenn chided, nudging her shoulder.

"I speak my mind," Maisie responded, her face forward and a slight shrug to her shoulders.

"What's the matter with you?" Michonne suddenly asked after watching Maisie shift uncomfortably for the third time.

"I don't know, something's wrong with my crossbow," she muttered, taking it off and holding it in her hands. She inspected it thoroughly, finishing with a frown. "Ah, shit. This is Daryl's."

"Are you still gonna be able to use it?" Rick asked over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure. Its heavier and it looks like the string is set to a tighter resistance than mine. I can shoot it, I just might not be able to reload it," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Rick nodded, and they continued until they came across a large fallen tree.

"The car is hidden in the bushes at the end," Aaron told them, standing off to the side with Maisie as Rick, Michonne, and Glenn worked to clear the branches and push the car into the road.

Rick looked up at the sky and frowned as darkness began to set. "We should get going," he said, pushing Aaron into the backseat.

Glenn took the drivers seat, and Michonne took the passenger seat, leaving Maisie to slide into the backseat, sandwiching Aaron between her and Rick.

〄

"So, Maisie, what's your story?" Glenn asked.

Maisie looked away from the window and saw him glancing at her in the rearview mirror. She made a face at him. "Um, my mom died when I was young, so my older brother, Jonathan, and I were raised by my ex-military father. He taught us how to fight and survive. I don't know where they are now. The military had evacuated all the houses while I was still in class so I was left alone. Few years later, I found Jackson as a small, small puppy inside a vet's office I raided for supplies. Poor thing was in the corner of the cage, biters clawing to get him."

Total darkness, the only light filtering in from the headlights, pressed around her as she waited for them to say something.

"Wow," Glenn said finally, turning briefly in his seat to look at her. When he turned back, he swerved the car wildly, shouting.

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