Joe sighed and drifted away from Rick, heading toward his women.
They were huddled close, whispering and giggling, until they noticed him.
The laughter cut off like a switch.
He raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Instead, he dropped down beside Emma, slipping an arm around her shoulder.
She leaned in, resting her head against him with a soft sigh.
"How are you feeling?" Joe asked.
Emma's voice was quiet, steady. "Hurts a little… but the meds Hershel gave me are starting to kick in."
Joe nodded. "Good. I still need my Toaster." Emma blushed, swatting his chest.
Maggie smirked. "You destroyed that guy."
Amy chuckled. "Not the first time."
Both Maggie and Emma turned toward her, curious.
Amy continued matter-of-factly, "Back at camp, some creep slapped me… and almost Andrea, too. Joe beat him half to death for it."
All eyes turned to Joe.
He shrugged, voice flat. "Shouldn't have touched them."
Silence settled, thick with unspoken feelings. The three women stared at him, and Joe caught the subtle shift.
Their gazes softer, quicker heartbeats in their chests.
He blinked, confused. 'If this were anime, their eyes would have little hearts in them.'
Then he frowned.
'Wait. What the hell is anime?'
Amy tilted her head at him, worried. "Honey?"
Joe shook himself out of it and leaned back, letting the girls chatter on.
He just sat quietly and listened.
...
Thirty minutes later, the sound of excited voices cut through the camp.
Joe and the others turned and saw Sophia sitting up on her sleeping bag.
Joe let out a long breath of relief.
Amy whispered, "I'm so glad she's okay."
Maggie nodded quickly, her voice trembling, "Me too. I don't think I could handle another loss."
Emma wrapped an arm around Maggie, holding her close for a moment.
Joe rose and walked toward Sophia.
She was nearly smothered by everyone crowding around her.
His voice cut through the noise, "Give her some space."
The group backed off instantly.
Carol and Daryl were the only ones who stayed, hugging the little girl close.
Joe crouched down, meeting Sophia's eyes. "You alright, sweetheart?"
Sophia nodded weakly. "I'm okay… my head hurts."
Joe gave her a small nod, then motioned for Glenn. "Get her some painkillers."
He squeezed her shoulder gently. "I'm glad you're okay."
Then he stood, leaving her in the arms of her family, giving them privacy.
At the moving truck, Joe dug out a duffel bag. Sitting on the bumper, reloading magazines with methodical precision.
The sound of clicking metal was steady, almost soothing.
Minutes later, he zipped the bag and set it aside.
On his way back to Amy and the others, a new sound cut through the air...
Gunshots.
Distant, but getting closer.
"Cover!" Joe barked.
The group scrambled behind vehicles and barriers, weapons snapping into ready hands.
A white van tore around the corner, speeding toward them. Right behind it, a yellow sedan swerved wildly.
Three gunmen leaned out the windows, firing round after round into the van's rear.
Joe's voice rang clear, steady. "Take out the yellow car first. Hold until the van makes a move."
Everyone nodded, rifles braced.
The van skidded hard to the left, braking.
Joe didn't hesitate. He opened fire, bullets punching through the yellow car's windshield. Others joined in.
The sedan swerved, tires screaming, then flipped. The metal crunching as it rolled into a streetlamp. Smoke billowed from the wreck.
One cultist crawled free, both legs mangled and useless.
He dragged himself across the pavement, leaving a trail of blood.
Joe strode over, drawing his Glock with calm inevitability.
The man turned his tattooed face upward, choking out his last words: "The Sun God will return…"
"Whatever." Joe muttered.
Bang!
The gunshot echoed under the bridge and the body went still.
Glock still out and ready for contact with the passengers of the van.
...
Joe's eyes flicked to the van. The side door creaked open, metal groaning.
A small figure climbed out first, a little asian girl. She froze for a moment, scanning the camp with wide eyes.
Then lifted a hand and waved shyly at him.
Joe slowly lowered his Glock and holstered it. His gut told him the fight was over... for now.
Next came Michonne, her katana strapped across her back.
She gave him the faintest smile before her face settled back into its usual guarded calm.
But Joe's focus never wavered from the door. He stood rooted, breath caught in his chest, waiting.
Hoping.
And then... she appeared.
Andrea.
Her blonde hair was tangled, her clothes stained, but to Joe she looked perfect.
He moved before he could think, sprinting across the asphalt.
When he reached her, he wrapped her up in his arms, lifting her clear off the ground.
His lips crashed against hers, days of doubt and longing pouring into that single kiss.
Andrea clung to him, her arms locking around his neck, kissing him back with the same desperate hunger.
For a moment, there was nothing else... no walkers, no cultists, no world falling apart.
Just them.
"Eww…" Clementine muttered, scrunching up her nose and turning her head away.
The group around them chuckled, but no one dared interrupt.
Amy barreled over.
She shoved Joe aside without hesitation and practically tackled her sister.
Andrea laughed through tears as Amy squeezed her tight, clinging to her like she'd never let go again.
Joe stumbled back a step, watching the sisters reunite, his chest filled with relief.
...
Joe watched the sisters embrace, a soft smile tugging at his lips. Out of nowhere, Michonne stepped in and wrapped him in a hug.
He blinked, a little surprised, then patted her back firmly before his gaze dropped to the small girl by her side.
"And who's this cutie?" Joe asked, his tone warm.
Clementine blushed, eyes darting away as her little fingers curled around the hem of her shirt.
Michonne's voice was calm but carried weight. "This is Clementine. We found her trapped by one of those lunatics."
Joe's expression hardened for a moment, then softened again as he crouched slightly to meet her eyes. "Poor thing. Don't worry, I won't let any of those creeps get near you. Not ever."
Clem peeked up at him, hesitated, then gave a slow nod before hurrying over to Andrea.
She clutched Andrea's hand while Amy and her sister chattered rapidly, catching up on everything they'd missed.
Joe straightened, glancing to Michonne. "Let's get her introduced to the others. Might help her settle in."
Michonne nodded, gently taking Clem's hand and leading her forward.
Andrea and Amy followed, still talking in a rush of laughter and tears.
When they reached the group, Rick came up first, relief etched on his face.
"Glad you both made it back," he said, eyes lingering on Michonne before flicking to Andrea.
Joe noticed this, 'Got a thing for dark meat, eh?"
Carl, curious as ever, walked up to Clem with a small packet of animal crackers he'd scavenged days ago.
He held them out, grinning. "Want some?"
Clem took them shyly. The moment she tasted one, a small smile spread across her face.
Carl lit up, motioning for her to follow him.
Within moments, the three kids sat together in the grass, chatting softly like they'd known each other far longer than a few minutes.
Watching them, a quiet hope stirred through the group... a glimpse of something normal.
...
Joe glanced at the sinking sun.
Two hours until it disappeared, another half hour before true dark.
Too risky to linger around here.
He raised his voice, cutting through the calm. "Alright, everyone! Pack it up, we need to move. Let's find a place to hole up before nightfall."
The camp came alive with motion. People stuffed gear back into vehicles, weapons were checked, food stashed away.
Joe swung a leg over his Harley, the engine rumbling to life. Andrea slid on behind him, her katana angled across her back.
Amy, Maggie, Emma, Michonne, and Clem piled into one car together.
Carol bundling Sophia into another.
Daryl rode up on his bike, giving Joe a small nod.
The convoy rolled out in unison, engines echoing across the empty highway.
The road ahead stretched wide and clear... no cars in sight, no sign of danger.
But in this world, Joe knew better than to trust an easy road.
...
A couple hours later, the sun hung low, bleeding red across the horizon.
The convoy was still in the middle of nowhere, and instead of camping, they pushed toward the nearest town.
That's when the smell hit them.
Burning wood and ash.
A faint orange glow grew brighter with each passing mile.
Joe slowed, flashing his brake light. The convoy rolled to a halt, engines idling low.
He swung off his Harley, Daryl dropping beside him. Rick jogged over with Glenn. Michonne coming along as well.
Rick asked, tense, "Why are we stopping?"
Joe pointed toward the glow. "That's no wildfire. The cult's ahead. My gut says they set the fires on purpose... announcing their presence."
Daryl muttered, eyes sharp, "Too risky to skirt 'em. We should go in and wipe the bastards out."
Glenn shook his head. "We can't risk everyone. Too many lives at stake."
Joe clarified, "He means a small strike team hits them. The rest stay back and keep safe."
Daryl gave a slow nod. Glenn's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue further.
Rick straightened. "It's the four of us."
Glenn opened his mouth, but Michonne's voice cut through like steel. "I'm going too."
Joe glanced at her. For a moment he thought about refusing, but something in her eyes made him stop. He gave a small nod. Glenn exhaled in relief.
"Alright," Joe said. "We set a perimeter first. Once everyone's squared away, we move."
The group dispersed to relay orders. Joe went to his women, explaining the plan.
They tried to argue, fear in their voices, but he stopped them with a look.
Maggie's lips trembled before she finally kissed him. Clem flushed and turned away, fiddling with her sleeves.
Then Joe went to gear up. M16 slung across his back. Mossberg 590 strapped to his leg. He swapped his Glock for a Sig P365, checked the mags.
Fully loaded. Ready for action.
He swung onto his Harley, Michonne climbing on behind him, katana angled at her shoulder. Rick climbed behind Daryl on the second bike.
The engines roared to life. They tore down the road, the fire's glow growing into an inferno ahead.
---
At the edge of town, chaos awaited. Half the block was ablaze. Figures moved in the firelight.
Cultists, their faces painted with the sun mark, arms scarred with scripture.
They chanted, some laughing, some weeping as they danced around the flames.
Joe gunned the throttle. At the last second, he let go, pulling the Mossberg free.
BOOM!
Buckshot tore through the nearest cultist, his body crumpling into the dirt.
Michonne leaned off the bike, her AN-94 rattling a burst that shredded through two more.
Daryl and Rick followed suit, gunfire cracking through the night.
The cultists screamed and scattered, some clawing for pistols, most clutching nothing but blades and pipes.
Joe slid his bike sideways, jumping free as buckshot peppered the ground.
Pellets ripped across his thigh, hot pain searing through him. He gritted his teeth and rolled behind a car.
A shotgun barrel swung over the hood.
Joe caught it, ripped it upward, and pressed his Sig to the man's cheek.
Bang!
His skull split open.
A woman charged him with a curved sword, screeching a prayer.
Joe slammed the shotgun stock across her jaw, dropping her to her knees.
One more round ended her screams.
Around him, the fight burned fast and brutal. Rick shot clean, tight bursts, face grim.
Daryl's Ak-74 thudded again and again, each bolt a kill.
Michonne was a blur of steel and gunfire, her blade flashing red in the firelight.
Minutes passed. Joe emptying mag after mag.
Then silence fell.
Only the crackle of flames remained.
Joe stood among the bodies, chest heaving. The others looked around, weapons still raised, their expressions dazed.
The sheer number of corpses was staggering.
Joe's voice cut through the quiet. "Gather what weapons you can. Hide them. Then we head back."
Rick gave a slow nod, grim and pale in the firelight.
They mounted their bikes, leaving the burning town behind... smoke curling like a beacon into the night sky.
...
The group arrived back without incident.
Everyone was accounted for, safe. With little discussion, they headed into the town. Stopping briefly to collect all the weapons.
In the town center, they found a police station.
Sturdy brick walls, barred windows, and a steel door that still held strong.
Michonne moved forward to pick the lock.
The station wasn't much, but it was better than sleeping in the open.
Joe volunteered to sweep the building while the rest of the group unrolled sleeping bags across the main room.
The air inside was stale, tinged with mildew and dust.
He searched every office and storage closet.
A few scuffed badges, a dried blood trail leading to a locked holding cell.
Finally, a half-empty box of 9mm rounds and some scattered shotgun shells. Not much, but better than nothing.
With the station checked, Joe went into the bathroom and started treating his wound.
It wasn't bad only a handful of buckshot pellets were embedded in his thigh.
He pulled each pellt out with tweezers before he wrapped his thigh with gauze.
By the time Joe finished, the others had already begun to settle.
A few of the women worked near the break room stove. They were heating up MREs scavenged from back at the CDC.
The smell of all kinds of food filled the air.
The food was passed around, some trading what they didn't want to others.
Joe made his way to Andrea and sank down beside her. She leaned into him instantly, tired but warm.
Clem curled up against her, resting her head in Andrea's lap, eyes half-shut.
Joe smiled, sliding a hand under Andrea's shirt, palm resting against the gentle curve of her stomach. "How's our baby?"
Andrea kissed him softly before murmuring, "We're fine."
Joe's smile deepened, but the moment was broken as Beth appeared with a couple of plates.
"Here, made sure you got the bigger portions," Beth said brightly.
Joe thanked her, offering a nod.
Beth's smile lingered a second longer than it should have before she walked away.
Andrea raised a brow, smirking. "You got a thing for sisters, huh?"
Joe chuckled. "I don't ever start anything."
Andrea tilted her head. "Emma? Michonne?"
Joe sighed. "Emma… snuck into the shower with me and Maggie." He shrugged. "Michonne? Nothings happened. I think she has eyes for someone else."
Andrea smirked, her voice low and teasing. "What? Really? Who?!" Joe glanced over at Rick.
She said, "Huh, she asked about how to find you though? "
Joe smirked slightly, glancing across the room.
Michonne sat alone in the corner, posture stiff as stone. Glancing over at Rick. Only stopping when Amy approached her with a plate, offering food.
"See?" Joe asked.
Andrea giggled, brushing her fingers across his jaw. "Mhm. But enough about that. Tell me what you've been through the past few days."
Joe leaned back, recounting their trip toward Fort Benning. The walkers encountered on backroads, tense nights camped in the woods or random houses.
But nothing close to what Andrea and Michonne had endured.
Andrea let out a long sigh. "You guys had it easy. Me and Michonne… we were fighting for every step."
Joe rubbed her back, guilt in his voice. "I'm sorry."
Andrea shook her head, firm. "Don't be. You had to protect everyone. Besides…"
She caught his chin, making him meet her eyes. "I only made it because of the things you taught me. Shooting. Fighting. Surviving. You saved me, even when you weren't there."
Joe's jaw tightened, but he stayed quiet.
Andrea smirked, breaking the heaviness. "We should make up for lost time later."
Joe's eyes flicked to her. "Oh yeah?"
Her smirk widened. "Yep! I'm on top."
Joe leaned closer, whispering, "Yeah, till you can't take any more."
Andrea flushed, trying to keep her tough expression, but her lips twitched into a smile anyway.
...
The police station grew quiet as night settled over the town.
The smell of smoke from the burning buildings outside seeped faintly through the barred windows.
No one minded, insidethe station there was warmth, food, and a sense of safety... at least for now.
Rick organized a rotation of men to keep watch.
Daryl on the roof, Glenn by the front entrance, T-Dog and Jim trading shifts at the back.
No one argued.
After the day they'd had, no one wanted to be caught off guard again.
Joe gathered his women, leading them into one of the smaller offices at the far end of the station.
The room smelled of dust and old paper, but it was private, and that was enough.
Clementine had fallen asleep during dinner, curled up against Andrea's side.
Joe carefully lifted her into his arms, her tiny body against his chest reminding him just how small she really was.
She stirred only once, mumbling something soft before nestling into him again.
He carried her to one of the makeshift cots, it was padded with folded blankets.
Joe laid her down gently. Amy immediately settled beside her, brushing Clem's hair back from her face.
"She's been through too much," Amy whispered, watching the girl sleep.
Joe nodded, giving her hand a squeeze before stepping back.
Maggie and Emma had claimed another cot, settling close together.
Emma leaned into Maggie, still pale from her wound, but her breathing was steady.
Joe gave her a brief, reassuring look, and she smiled faintly before closing her eyes.
Andrea tugged him toward a cot by the far wall. She sat down first, pulling him down beside her.
The station's shadows flickered across her face, softening her usual sharpness.
Joe stretched out with her, his arm draped around her waist.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself breathe. The muted sound of distant watchmen's footsteps and the occasional groan of settling wood filled the silence.
Andrea rested her head on his chest, whispering, "Feels good not to run for once."
Joe pressed a kiss to her hair, murmuring, "Yeah. We'll take the peace while we can."
Andrea's hand slid across his stomach, her touch warm and familiar.
She looked up at him with a tired but content smile. "Don't let go."
Joe tightened his arm around her. "Never."
Outside, the fires of the town smoldered low. Inside the station, for the first time in days, the group slept in relative peace.