POV: Jacqui–––––––––––––––––
Her knees scraped metal as she crawled into the vent, the sharp tang of rust and dust thick in her throat. Behind her, the muffled thuds of walkers against the utility room door echoed like drums, steady, hungry, unrelenting.
She paused.
Alister's voice still rang in her ears: "Go. I shall cover your retreat."
Every instinct screamed to turn back. But the shaft was too narrow for him, and she knew it. She also knew he was right. She had the knowledge, the lighter gear, the chance.
That didn't make it any easier.
Jacqui turned her head just enough to glimpse him one last time armor glinting in the flickering light, sword raised, back straight against the door as it trembled under the weight of death. A knight out of time, holding the line like a last bastion of some forgotten code.
"Don't die on me, Alister."
She bit her lip and forced herself forward.
The shaft groaned under her weight with every inch. Her flashlight, clenched between her teeth, jittered with her breath, casting nervous shadows that danced along the metal. Rats had left their trails behind her scratches, droppings, tufts of fur but she didn't care.
All she could think of was him.
"Who the hell are you, tin man? Charging into walkers like it's just another battlefield…"
A dull crash behind her wood splintering. Then a roar. Not human. Not fully. Alister's voice bellowing like thunder as he engaged.
She scrambled faster.
She didn't know how long she crawled. Time stretched in the dark. But finally, the shaft opened into a dim generator room, wires hanging from the ceiling like black vines. The hum of failing power buzzed faintly.
Jacqui rolled out, panting.
A staircase. She found it just where she remembered leading up to the old delivery dock.
But before she took another step, she turned back toward the vent.
She couldn't hear him anymore.
Only distant snarls… and silence.
Jacqui closed her eyes, pressing her palm against the vent's edge.
"I'll come back for you. I swear it."
She pushed away from the vent with trembling arms, sweat clinging to her brow. The generator room was worse than she remembered. Pipes hissed steam from ruptured seams. The hum of dying machines pulsed like a heartbeat, irregular and weak.
It wasn't just the noise it was the feel of the place. Like the dead had passed through here, and their stink clung to the walls.
Jacqui gripped the pistol tighter. Her breath was shallow, her nerves on edge but she wasn't turning back. Not when someone had stayed behind for her.
She crept forward. Every flickering light cast shadows that shifted and stretched like grasping hands.
"Get it together," she whispered to herself. "You're alive. You made it this far."
She reached the bottom of the stairs. A heavy steel door loomed ahead, the way out. She tried the handle. It groaned but it turned.
Relief flooded her until a crash behind made her whirl around.
One of the side doors slammed open.
A walker stumbled through.
Then another.
Jacqui's heart leapt into her throat.
Where the hell had they come from? The vent? A side corridor?
No time to think. She fired once too high. The flash blinded her in the dark. She fired again hit.
The first walker collapsed, but the second lunged. She ducked just in time, its hand snagging her jacket. She slammed her elbow into its throat, then drove her shoulder into its chest, knocking it back against the wall.
She fired once more click.
Empty.
Jacqui grabbed a rusted wrench from a nearby shelf. As the walker lunged again, she swung with everything she had. The blow cracked its skull sideways, spraying black sludge across her arm. It dropped in a heap.
She stood there, panting.
Her whole body shook. Not from weakness but from fury.
At this world. At the death. At how fast everything had fallen apart.
But she was still standing.
Jacqui wiped her face with her sleeve and reloaded her pistol with shaky fingers. "You picked the wrong woman to corner today," she muttered.
She turned back to the steel door and shoved it open.
Light.
Cool wind.
The loading dock stretched out before her rusted trucks, broken crates, and the alleyway beyond.
But she didn't run.
Not yet.
She pulled out her walkie-talkie, voice tight. "This is Jacqui. I made it to the loading dock. Alister's still in the basement. He held the line so I could get through. I'm going back in after him unless someone gives me a damn good reason not to."
Static answered her first. Then a voice—Glenn's. "Jacqui, no—wait—don't be stupid—"
She clicked the button again. "Then get here fast."
She wasn't done.
Not until she saw him walk out alive.
She didn't stop to think. She couldn't. Every instinct screamed run, but something louder burned in her chest hot, painful, undeniable.
She slid back into the vent, crawling faster than she had the first time. Her elbows scraped metal. Her breath came sharp. The echoes behind her were getting louder groans and splintering wood.
She dropped into the utility room again, boots landing in a shallow puddle. The door Alister had braced was… open.
But no Alister.
Her flashlight beam swept across the floor, and she froze.
Corpses. Not just one or two.
Ten. Maybe more.
Walkers, carved apart with savage precision heads split, torsos cleaved. The floor was slick with dark rot. Limbs twitched, lifeless, twitching only from leftover nerves.
Jacqui stumbled to her feet, eyes wide. "Alister…?"
There was no answer.
Only silence.
She moved forward slowly, boots crunching glass and bone. Her light passed over a fallen shelving unit, split down the middle. A long, dark smear of blood dragged from the door toward the back hallway like something had been hauled, or staggered, or fought the entire way out.
"No," she breathed. "No, no, no…"
She followed the trail, pulse pounding in her ears.
A helm sat abandoned in a corner; Alister's. Blood-caked. Dented as of like it was dented with a lot of weight. It looked wrong without him in it, like a crown with no king, a tool without its user, a knight without purpose.
"Come on, big guy…" she whispered. "Don't do this to me."
She pushed through a swinging maintenance door into the next corridor more bodies. More signs of a battle. The sword strokes were unmistakable. Walkers were torn down the middle, heads crushed with blunt force. Not a single bullet fired. Just steel and willpower.
But Alister was nowhere to be found.
Jacqui swallowed hard. Her flashlight flickered as she reached the edge of a stairwell the trail ended here. Drag marks. Bootprints. And then…
Nothing.
The wind from an open emergency exit stirred a loose paper on the floor.
He was gone.
Alive? Dead?
She didn't know.
But she knew he had fought. That he hadn't given up. That he bought time for her, for all of them.
Jacqui stared out the open exit into the loading bay, sunlight spilling into the dim hall. For a moment, she didn't move.
Then, jaw set, she turned on her heel, flashlight gripped tight, and ran back toward the group.
She wasn't broken.
She was forged.
POV: Glenn & Rick––––––––––––––
The rooftop air was thicker now, hotter. Glenn leaned over the ledge again, squinting through the haze as the late afternoon sun dipped lower. The red car still sat across the street untouched, its horn rigged and ready.
"Think it'll work?" Rick asked, wiping sweat from his brow. His voice was low, careful.
Glenn gave a short nod. "If it lures them long enough for us to get to the van and bring it around, yeah. But it's gonna come down to timing. We set it off too early, they double back."
Rick tapped his walkie. "Let's see if Alister and Jacqui found anything."
He pressed the button. Static.
Again.
Nothing.
Glenn's smile faded. "Try again."
Rick did. "Jacqui? Alister? Come in."
Still static.
Glenn's fingers tightened on the walkie. "It's been too long."
Rick gave him a look. "You know Alister. He'd carve through a hundred of 'em if he had to."
"Yeah, but what about Jacqui?" Glenn said. "If something happened—"
A sharp crack echoed in the distance.
Both men tensed.
"Was that a gunshot?" Glenn asked, eyes sweeping the horizon.
"No," Rick whispered, narrowing his eyes. "That was glass."
Glenn grabbed the binoculars they'd brought and scanned the storefront across the street.
Then he froze.
"Rick," he muttered, voice hushed. "We've got a problem."
Rick moved closer. "What is it?"
Glenn lowered the binoculars slowly. "Walkers. A lot more. They're heading west, away from the alley. Like something just pulled them… like bait."
Rick blinked. "You think someone made it out?"
Glenn stared out, eyes fixed on the shifting crowd of undead. "I don't know. But if someone did they just saved our asses."
Rick exhaled, thoughtful. "We finish this plan fast. We get the van. Then we find the others."
Glenn nodded, but his gut twisted.
Something was off.
They climbed back down the stairwell, each step quicker than the last, boots echoing against metal.
Whatever Jacqui and Alister found down there it was changing the game.
As they made their way down the stairwell, the weight of the silence between them felt heavier than it had in days. The tension was thick, as if the air itself knew something had shifted, something was wrong but neither of them could put a finger on it.
Glenn's mind raced, his thoughts bouncing between the flickering walkie-talkie, the increasing number of walkers, and Jacqui. The way she had sounded before, her determination to go back for Alister, that had stuck with him.
"You think she'll be okay?" Glenn asked, voice quiet, almost hesitant.
Rick didn't answer immediately. His mind was somewhere else. He'd been in this situation more times than he could count unsure of whether someone would come back, unsure if they had made the right call.
But Jacqui wasn't just anyone. She wasn't some weak survivor caught in the chaos of the world; she was resourceful, sharp, and damn tough. Still, something about the look in her eyes when she spoke about Alister it hit Rick hard.
"I hope so," Rick said finally, his voice low. "But we've got to get moving. The more time we waste, the harder it's going to be."
Glenn didn't respond right away. They both knew it was true. They had to move fast. The walkers were getting closer to the perimeter of their location, and every moment they wasted could be one they didn't get back.
As they reached the bottom of the stairwell, Rick tapped Glenn's shoulder, his hand gesturing toward the emergency exit door.
"Stay here," Rick said, his tone quiet but firm. "I'll head out first, make sure it's clear."
Glenn didn't argue. He nodded, watching Rick move with practiced care, his every step measured. The door opened with a creak that seemed to carry across the entire building. Rick hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Glenn one last time before he stepped out.
The outside air hit them like a brick wall a mix of heat and dust from the sun, mingled with the scent of decay and sweat. The walkers that had been heading west earlier were now concentrated around the alleyway to their left, slowly lurching closer. Glenn scanned the area, trying to spot any signs of the others, but nothing stood out.
He could still feel the nagging unease gnawing at his stomach.
He pressed the walkie-talkie to his lips again, this time calling out more urgently.
"Jacqui, Alister, can you hear me? We're at the front. Come in, please."
Silence.
Rick reappeared at the door. His eyes were tense, searching the area as he moved back inside, gesturing for Glenn to follow him.
"We're gonna have to go around. We don't have time to wait any longer," Rick said, his voice sharp. "There's too much noise in the alley. We take the long route, head for the van from the back."
Glenn's heart dropped as he nodded in agreement. There was no other choice. They had to move fast, before the walkers grew even more restless.
They headed out through the rear exit, the old, rusted door barely hanging on its hinges as they slipped outside. The immediate area seemed clear, but the air was thick with tension, the sense that something was very wrong still hanging over them like a storm cloud.
They crept through the narrow alley, keeping low and out of sight, trying not to make a sound. The sunlight flickered through the gaps in the buildings, casting long shadows over their path.
"What are you thinking, Glenn?" Rick asked, keeping his voice low.
"I'm thinking Jacqui was right to go back for Alister," Glenn said, his voice quiet but determined. "She wasn't going to leave him behind. And he… he's not the kind of guy who gives up, you know?"
Rick didn't respond at first. He just kept his eyes trained on the area around them, scanning for any signs of danger. After a long moment, he spoke.
"We'll find them, Glenn. But we can't wait forever. We'll need to get to the van and bring it back. Once we do, we'll be able to get out of here, find the others. But we need to move, now."
Glenn nodded, biting his lip as they continued down the alley. The sound of walkers groaning grew louder, and his heart pounded in his chest as they drew closer to the van. It wasn't just the walkers he was worried about anymore; it was the uncertainty that lingered in the air the questions that hadn't been answered, the answers they might never get.
They rounded the corner of the alley and saw the van parked just ahead. It was battered from walkers stumbling on it, weathered and battered, but it was a vehicle, and that was all that mattered right now.
Glenn quickly scanned the area to make sure there were no walkers nearby before he hurried toward the van, unlocking the door and jumping into the driver's seat.
Rick was already at the back, checking the cargo and making sure they had everything they needed.
"Ready?" Rick asked, his hand on the door.
"Ready," Glenn replied, giving him a look of determination.
"Let's go," Rick said.
They slammed the doors shut, and Glenn started the van, the engine sputtering to life as they began to drive out of the alley, carefully navigating through the maze of abandoned cars and debris.
The road ahead seemed open for the moment, but Glenn couldn't shake the feeling that they were just a step away from something they couldn't control. And somewhere out there maybe not far was Jacqui. And Alister. And the rest.
They couldn't afford to lose anyone else.
POV: T-Dog & Andrea–––––––––––
The low hum of walkers shuffled through the broken windows, their grating moans rattling the air like an ominous wind. T-Dog crouched low beside Andrea, his eyes darting back and forth between the front and the back of the department store. The group had been split up for too long now, and his gut twisted with every second that passed. He could feel the tension in Andrea, her anxiety seeping through the air like smoke.
"Where's Jacqui?" Andrea whispered, her voice tight as she peeked through a cracked window, scanning the street.
T-Dog grimaced, pressing his back against the cold, cracked wall. "I don't know. We were supposed to meet back at the front, but it's been too long."
Andrea's hand gripped her gun, fingers white-knuckled. "What if something happened to her?" she asked, voice barely audible, the fear just under the surface.
T-Dog's heart sank, but he couldn't let the doubt show. They had already lost too much in this hell. Losing one more could shatter them.
"We can't think like that," he said, his voice steady but low. "Jacqui's tough. And Alister... well, I trust that he'll do what it takes to protect her."
Andrea nodded, though her eyes betrayed her worry. "I know. But it doesn't make this any easier. We're sitting ducks here, T-Dog."
He caught the edge of her frustration and her fear, and for a moment, the image of her hardened resolve back at the RV flashed through his mind. She hadn't been the same since they'd arrived in this hellhole. The Andrea he'd met back in the early days, the one who had been quick to second-guess herself, was gone. She had learned to survive just like everyone else.
T-Dog took a deep breath, the air thick with the musty scent of mildew and old decay. "Listen," he said, turning toward her with a serious look in his eyes. "We don't have a choice. We stay here, or we make a move, but we can't sit around doing nothing."
Andrea's eyes flickered as she considered his words. They had discussed escape plans, escape routes, but no one had been able to come up with anything that would keep them safe from the walkers outside. The moment they stepped out, they'd be vulnerable easy pickings for the dead.
"We need to stick together," Andrea said, finally breaking the silence. "If we stay here too long, we're gonna get boxed in. If we can get to the roof, we might have a shot."
T-Dog nodded. It wasn't a perfect plan, but they didn't have much time to argue about the details. "Alright. Let's move quietly. We get to the roof, wait for Glenn and Rick. If they make it back, we're outta here."
Andrea gave a tight nod, then turned toward the front of the store to scan the area again, eyes sharp as she monitored the slow encroachment of walkers toward the building.
"Ready?" she asked, her voice low, a sense of calm determination in her eyes.
"Yeah," T-Dog replied. He wasn't sure how long they could keep this up, but at least if they were moving, they were doing something.
They both crept toward the back of the department store, staying as silent as possible, moving quickly but carefully through the aisles and around the corners. The tension in the air grew thick, and each shuffle of a walker's footstep felt like an eternity.
T-Dog led the way toward the staircase, eyes constantly scanning for any signs of danger. They reached the steps without incident, but as they started to climb, a loud crash echoed from the front of the store a sound so jarring it sent both of them into a defensive stance.
"What the hell was that?" Andrea whispered, eyes wide.
T-Dog stiffened, then reached out to pull her back against the wall, keeping her low. "Stay quiet," he hissed. "Don't move."
They waited for several long moments, but nothing came. Just the distant shuffle of walkers.
"Alright, we move now," T-Dog said, his voice commanding. He pulled Andrea along, the quiet tension growing between them as they moved through the stairs toward the rooftop access.
Each step felt heavier, like the weight of the entire world was pressing down on their shoulders. They finally reached the rooftop door, which creaked open too loudly for comfort. The sound of walkers was even louder outside now. They were closer. Much closer.
T-Dog didn't waste any time. He pushed through the door and onto the rooftop, the bright sunlight temporarily blinding him as he adjusted. He looked back toward Andrea. "We've gotta make it to the edge. If we can get to the fire escape, we can make it to the alleyway and meet up with Glenn and Rick."
She nodded, ready to follow. But as they moved across the rooftop, Andrea's sharp eyes caught something movement in the distance.
"Look," she whispered, pointing.
T-Dog followed her gaze. At first, he didn't understand what he was seeing. But then the realization hit him.
A figure. Bloodied. Staggering toward the edge of the building.
Alister.
His armor was covered in dark stains, the once-polished surface now marred by blood and grime. He looked like he'd fought through an entire horde on his own. A broken sword dangled from his side.
Without a word, Andrea started toward him. T-Dog was right behind her, but even as they moved, a deep, sinking feeling settled in his gut.
"Alister?" Andrea called out softly, trying to keep her voice steady.
Alister stopped at the edge of the building, staring into the distance as if he hadn't heard her.
He finally turned slowly, his eyes dull with exhaustion but still burning with that fierce, unyielding intensity that had marked him from the moment they'd met.
"Alister, what the hell happened?" Andrea demanded, rushing up to him.
He looked down at his bloodstained armor, as if only now realizing the extent of what he'd been through. And with a hoarse voice Alister said. "I held them off. For Jacqui so she could run away, has she not returned yet?"
T-Dog stepped forward, and shook his head.
Alister's expression faltered for a brief moment.
Andrea frowned. "She has to be alive."
Alister nodded slowly, but it didn't seem to reassure T-Dog as much as it should have. Something about Alister's demeanor felt off.
"We need to get out of here," Alister said, his voice flat. "No time."
Andrea glanced at T-Dog, then back to Alister. "We'll get you out of here, don't worry. We're not leaving anyone behind."
T-Dog didn't say anything, but his gaze lingered on Alister for a long moment. Something wasn't adding up. But now wasn't the time for questions.
With the sound of walkers closing in from all sides, they didn't waste another second. They needed to move, and fast.
As they made their way toward the fire escape, the oppressive sense of danger still hung over them.
Would they make it out? Would Jacqui?
Andrea grip tightened on her gun, determination setting in while looking at Alister with concern.