Adrenaline drove her forward, throwing masses of energy into her limbs and sending her forward. Fear was nonexistent in her mind, for she walked bravely along the wall. She could faintly hear gunfire from Carol and Michonne, doing their best to protect her from afar.

She grabbed the handle of the door and leaned to the side, using her weight to pull the door open. It screeched on rusty hinges as it slid open, revealing shocked and curious faces. They had obviously heard her exchange with Gareth. She breathed a sigh of relief- they were all in there, as well as some faces she hadn’t seen before.

“Thought I heard your voice.” Rick said as he pulled Carl out of the cart. They looked relieved to be out of there finally, but also seemed blinded by the light. Rick grabbed a board from the ground with a sharp nail sticking out of it, weighing the object in his hand. Presley didn’t stand by long enough to see what he did next.

She already knew the plan, as she’d been rehearsing it in her mind the moment that she stepped foot onto this damned place. Her hair was still down, swarming around her pale face and making her seem more like a figure from a movie. She took a deep breath, taking note of the horde of people trailing behind her, eagerly waiting for her next move.

She took a sharp veer to the right, almost shouting in alarm when she slammed into another figure. Relief flooded over her when she saw that it was the dark skin of Michonne. “Where’s Carol?” Presley asked urgently.

“I’m not sure, but keep on getting out of here. We got the guys off the roof, but they might be replaced. They weren’t ready for an attack, so just keep going.” Michonne gave her a shove and Presley was off again, running hard through the open area towards the chain link fence. The heavy footsteps and excited breaths of her comrades urged her onward. Freedom was always something to be joyous about. She remembered the relief she had felt when she had escaped the Governor’s Woodbury.

Presley was too absorbed on the fast-approaching fence to see the figure running at her from the corner of her eye before it was too late. She tried to swerve to move away from his outstretched arms, but he still managed to tackle her to the ground. She slid across the rocks, crying out when they scraped her skin and spilled her blood onto the ground. Rick and the others were on top of the man before he could get a hold of her hair, but he still managed to grip her arms so hard she thought they were just going to pop right off. She frantically looked out, noticing the people closing in on them fast. If they could make it to the trees they would be fine- just a few more miles before they reached Woodbury. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring her bloody wounds and sending herself rolling over the fence. There was no time to search for a gate.

The rest of the group followed quickly. Presley pulled out her pistol, aiming it at the oncoming figures who now had guns raised in their direction. She fired two bullets, cursing quietly when it only clicked, showing that it was now empty. They had the rest of her weapons stored just a little distance from here, including some ammo and a larger gun. If she could get to that, then she could hand off the gun to another person. She broke off in that direction in the trees, swerving quickly in and out of them to get to her destination.

Once she reached the spot, she pulled the gun out from under the shrubbery and handed it off to Rick, who nearly dropped it. She grabbed her bow and quiver, slipping the strap over her shoulder and knocking an arrow into place. She was now in complete battle mode.

Carol appeared at her side, “You keep the front because you know where we’re going. Get us out of here.” Presley nodded as she stuck two fingers in her mouth, blowing air between them. A sharp whistle escaped between her teeth, and just moments later, Zeva bounded through the trees. She seemed rattled from the gunfire, but pleased to see Presley alive and well. “Go, go!” Presley urged, lurching to her feet and diving forward into the trees.

The group moved swiftly, appearing like a pack of wild dogs just loping through the trees. Only, wild dogs didn’t usually have gun-crazed cannibals right on their butts. Presley pumped her arms, focusing on the rhythm of her stride and the feeling of her bow in her hands.

She was leaping over a log when she felt it- wait, no, she heard it before she felt it. Gunfire rattled the air, too close to be far away. Without realizing it, she fell to the ground in a heap. No cry escaped her lips. Only a gasp when she saw the bullet wound in her thigh. She stared at it for a moment, mesmerized by the blood that seeped out from the circular wound.

“Presley!” Rick stopped by her, but waved them on to keep the group going. They were reluctant, but their loyalty to the leader made them continue; all but a man she had never seen before.

“Come on, we don’t have time.” He said, exasperated. He grabbed her wrists and lifted her effortlessly into the air, slinging her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a rag. Rick, too, seemed perplexed by the strength of the man who had so effortlessly lifted her. He jogged quickly, surprisingly enough, but smoothed his gait to keep her from bouncing. She didn’t complain, simply closed her eyes and resisted the urge to flinch every time her hip painfully hit against his shoulder.