Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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Tara led the way to this new community she encountered when she was out there, her big eyes filled with fear and worry. These people—these women—have a history with the Saviors. They have unfinished business with them, but would they want to fight with us? They left for a reason; they're hiding for a reason. I sighed and stopped, thinking about the plan. I can't let my emotions get in the way, and I can't think of anything other than the task. Tara turned to us, her throat bobbing slightly as she swallowed and nodded. I pushed the gun strapped across my chest towards my back and looked at the trees all around us, trying to see which ones would have the best view. I whistled towards Jacob and Michonne, pointing at the trees. They nodded and broke off, each going to the trees and starting their climb.

I approached the large tree to my left and grabbed the nearest branch, preparing for my long climb. Rick came to me and locked his hands together, squatting slightly. With a nod, I placed my foot in his hand and hoisted myself up, my arms starting to scream at me.

"You good?" Rick asked me as I slowly made my way up.

"Good enough," I answered, grabbing another branch and holding myself in place long enough to glance down at Rick.

"You don't like that you're not going in," Rick stated. Well, that is the truth, but I don't know. I feel uneasy about everything. Maybe it's my hormones acting up, or perhaps these feelings I'm having are justified—I don't know.

"I'm fine," I persisted, keeping my feelings to myself, "The clock starts as soon as she goes in, right?" Rick nodded and pursed his lips. He knows me well enough to know when I'm wary about something, but luckily, he's not making a big deal out of this.

I continued to climb, not bothering to look down at the man who looked up at me with questioning eyes. The trunk got thicker the more I climbed, making it easier to climb, and after about three more minutes, I looped around the biggest branch and wrapped my legs around it, laying on my stomach. I perched the gun and held the scope to my eye, watching Tara as she snuck into the community.

We're using scare tactics to sway them to our side or take all their shit. I don't know how I feel about it, but if they're as stubborn as Tara says, I don't see another way around this. We need all the weapons we can get—we also need people, but we can't force them to take up arms against the Saviors. Tara didn't detail these people's experiences with the Saviors, but they hate them. They're fearful of them, and they ran. It might've worked for them, but it won't work for us. Not when we finally found a safe place to survive. I eyed my watch quickly and reverted my attention quickly. We gave Tara twenty minutes to speak with them before we set off explosives; if my watch is correct, she only has about fifteen minutes left.

I kept my sights on the building in the distance, watching intently to see if anyone was guarding it. To my surprise, it was unguarded. Who leaves their armory unguarded? If we're lucky, they'll come out to talk to Rick, and we can strike a deal. My left thumb started playing the band of my ring, making my hand feel like it weighed a thousand pounds. It still felt foreign, and I was unsure of my decision. Would such a thing like this matter now? The ring can get caught on clothing or something, and I was never much of a jewelry person. I'm tempted to give it back and tell Rick that we can just say we're a married couple instead, but I don't want to hurt his feelings.

I shook my head, pushing all my unimportant thoughts to the back of my mind. Now is not the time or the place to worry about such menial things. We have bigger fish to fry, and he goes by the name Negan. I glanced at my watch again, my nerves piquing—she only had a few more seconds before the explosives went off. I looked through the scope again and sharply inhaled as the loud booms echoed around me. We rigged them outside the community, but it was enough to scare them. It was our way of showing that we're powerful and a force that shouldn't be messed with.