Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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Rick and I shared a nervous look and turned our attention back to the small fleet on the other side of our fence. My heart stilled in my chest—starkly different from the painful pounding it was doing earlier. I wouldn't be too worried if it were just a small group, but they have a tank! That thing can quickly destroy everything we've worked so hard to build. It can kill us all in a blink of an eye.

"June! Rick!" The familiar male voice tore through the tense silence that enveloped us. It was as if the walkers had quieted down to watch what would unfold. My hand twitched and found Rick's as I squinted and recognized the tall, one-eyed frame that belonged to the Governor. "We need to talk," Rick and I looked at one another and frowned, realizing our predicament. We no longer make the group's decisions—we can't start now; it'll just make us spiral again—especially Rick.

"It's not up to us!" Rick shouted back, his hand squeezing mine tightly. Maggie, Beth, Jacob, Tyreese, Sasha, Carl, and Daryl crowded around us with wide eyes. This was something—this was someone—we never expected to see. "There's a council now! They run this place!" The Governor stood tall on the tank, his hands gripping his belt loops as he stared at us.

"Is Hershel on the council?" My heart dropped into my stomach as he waved to one of his people. Hershel and Michonne had gone outside the fence earlier, but I didn't know where they were headed or what they were planning on doing. A woman lowered her gun and walked over to a red pickup truck, her arm extending and gently leading a wobbling Hershel forward. Gasps from Maggie and Beth hit my ears like a pile of bricks weighing heavy on me. If they have Hershel, where is Michonne? "What about Michonne?"

I watched as someone grabbed Michonne by the arm and dragged her to a kneeling position beside Hershel. I reached forward and gripped the fence tightly, my heart finding itself and pounding loudly in my ears. A scuffle from behind me made me turn back. Daryl held Jacob back, his green eyes filled with fear and anger.

"There's a council!" I screamed at the evil man, "We don't make the decisions anymore!" Rick squeezed my hand tighter as the two people pointed their guns at Hershel's and Michonne's heads.

"Well, you're making the decisions today, June," The Governor said. I could almost hear the smirk on his lips as he talked to me. "Come down here. Let's have that talk," I let out a shaky breath as I weighed my options. What is his plan? What does he want? Does he want us dead, or does he want the prison? He didn't seem very interested in the prison back then, so why would he want it now? I turned to face Rick and frowned, knowing we had to talk to this wretched man. We nodded at one another and turned to face Carl. Carl wore his sheriff's hat—something he hadn't worn in a long time—and looked at us solemnly.

"We can do this," I whispered as I grabbed the boy and kissed his forehead, "We've got this," Rick copied my actions and held my hand, his blue eyes clouded with worry. I turned towards Daryl and pursed my lips as my anxiety worsened. Daryl nodded at me and reached out, opening the gate for us. Hesitantly, I walked forward across the field towards the invader and his army with Rick. My grip on my rifle tightened as the distance grew shorter and shorter.

"We can do this," Rick whispered with his eyes forward. I nodded and braced myself for what was to come. Either they gun us down, or we manage to talk things out. I bit my lip as we approached the fence, my eyes scanning over Hershel and Michonne. They were slightly dirty, and Michonne had a bandage on her forehead, but other than that, they looked fine.

"Let them go," I commanded, surprised by how strong my voice sounded. I'm a quivering, anxious mess on the inside.

"We'll stay down here," Rick added, "Talk as long as you want, but you let them go. You've got a tank. You don't need hostages." The Governor smirked at us and placed both hands on his hips, his one eye scanning the entire area behind us.