Daryl peered cautiously through the foliage at the Del Arno Warehouse several yards away. The three stationary trailers that he and Aaron had discovered were filled with walkers were still parked along the receiving bay. But there were three men and one woman guarding the perimeter; they looked lean and dirty. In their hands were blade weapons, spears, or compound bows. Carved on their foreheads was the letter 'W'. The Wolves were fewer in number, but they were very much alive.

"How do you want to play this?" Abraham whispered to Daryl.

"We'll go 'round back, scale the fence, take them out, and unlock the gate for our people."

Abraham nodded in approval. "Outstanding. Let's flush these logs."

"We don't have to kill them!" Morgan cried.

"Sweet Sarah's pussy, learn a new song, Morgan," Abraham griped.

"We have guns and they don't. Why not just take the four of them hostage and negotiate a trade with their friends in the warehouse, them for the food."

"Anyone could show up while we sit around talkin' with these bastards," Daryl argued, "more Wolves, a herd, or some scavengers. I ain't riskin' it."

Morgan's jaw dropped, as he felt his chance of preventing bloodshed slipping away. "Daryl—"

"Let's roll," Abraham interrupted as he tapped Daryl on the shoulder.

Daryl nodded at the former soldier and gave Morgan one last cold glance. "Stay here," he ordered.

Morgan nodded reluctantly, and Daryl and Abraham began their cautious walk through the forest to the rear of the warehouse. A minute later Daryl looked at the Wolves behind the chain link fence when he suddenly froze. "Shit!" Daryl said through his clenched teeth."

Abraham stopped walking and turned towards Daryl. "What the shit—?"

Daryl grabbed Abraham by the shoulder, pulled him down to his knees and pointed towards the warehouse. Morgan, with his staff in hand, was walking towards the gate.

"That dumb son of a bleeding heart bitch," Abraham muttered angrily.

Daryl grumbled in agreement.

The Wolf standing beside the gate spotted Morgan walking towards them and began shouting warnings to his comrades; then he leaned his axe against the chain link fence and took the keys out of his jeans pocket.

"Any bright ideas, Stonewall Jackson?" Abraham asked Daryl.

Daryl held the Benelli shotgun with both hands and ran out into the field.

 

"Drop the stick, asshole!" the Wolf shouted at Morgan as he stuck the key inside the padlock and turned it.

"We don't have to fight," Morgan replied as he walked calmly towards the gate.

"Don't worry about it," the Wolf sneered as the padlock snapped loose and he pulled away the chain keeping the gate closed. "I'm going to chop you into pieces. I promise you won't feel a thing!"

The gate swung open and the Wolf grabbed his axe.

"Kill that fool, Samuel!" laughed his female colleague.

The Wolf Samuel screamed angrily as he charged Morgan, who stopped walking and took a defensive stance with his staff.

Samuel raised the axe above his head and swung it down at Morgan, but Morgan sidestepped and the blade struck the ground.

THAKK!

Morgan struck Samuel's right wrist with the staff, and Samuel yelped in pain and let go of the axe.

WHAKK!

Morgan's next attack struck Samuel across the forehead. Samuel's hands covered up his eyes and he stumbled backwards.

WHUMP!

Morgan struck Samuel in the stomach, and the air in his lungs shot out of his mouth and he collapsed onto the pavement.

Another male Wolf stepped outside the gate to face Morgan. He drew an arrow from his quiver and set it alongside his compound bow, and pulled back on the string.

BLAM!

The center of the wolf's chest exploded and he fell dead onto the pavement, his dying reflex shot the arrow harmlessly over Morgan's head.

"No!" Morgan and the Female Wolf screamed in unison.

Morgan spun around and saw Daryl, with smoke drifting out the barrel of his semi-automatic shotgun, running towards him.

"Move it, prick!" Daryl shouted at Morgan.

"Please, no more killing!" Morgan pleaded.

Daryl ran past Morgan and towards the open gate. The three remaining Wolves took one look at Daryl's automatic shotgun and ran towards the safety of the warehouse.

"Javier, stop him!" the Female Wolf shouted.

The Wolf Javier stopped running and spun around to face Daryl; in his hand was a blood stained machete. "I kill you and him!" Javier vowed in a heavy Latin accent.

Javier threw the machete at Daryl, but the hunter slid to one knee and covered his face with his left arm as the heavy blade flew past his head. Daryl lowered his arm in time to see Javier slam into him, and the impact knocked the shotgun out of his hand. Javier pinned Daryl onto the pavement and punched him with a right cross. Daryl's vision blurred, but he saw Javier pulling his arm back for a second punch. Javier brought his fist down, but Daryl blocked it with his left hand, and hit Javier with a right cross of his own. Javier fell off Daryl, who unsheathed his shop knife and leapt atop the prone Wolf.

"No!" Morgan screamed.

WHUKK!

Daryl plunged his knife into Javier's heart. Javier screamed in pain, but the scream faded away along with his life.

Morgan staged past the open gate, and watched in horror as Javier died. "No," he whispered.

Behind Morgan, Samuel took hold of the axe's handle, used it to pull himself to his feet, and pried the axe free from the pavement. "You...you son of a bitch," Samuel panted as he stumbled towards the unsuspecting pacifist.

BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA!

The sound of gunfire made Morgan spin around and he saw Samuel falling dead onto his side, while Abraham, who stood several feet away, lowered his M16 rifle.

In the center of the lot, Daryl pulled his shop knife out of Javier's chest and stabbed him in the forehead to prevent him from turning.

The Female Wolf and the last Male Wolf reached the receiving bay and looked back to see Javier and Samuel's deaths.

"What do we do?" the Male Wolf asked fearfully.

The Female Wolf glanced at the three trailers and ran to the nearest one. "We'll free the dead."

"What?! They'll kill us too!" The Male Wolf shouted.

"We're dead. They're dead. The world is dead. How and when death claims us all doesn't matter anymore," the Female Wolf said.

The Female Wolf unlocked the trailer's roller door and pushed it up. A dozen shadowy figures were inside with their heads bowed, but the open door made them lift their heads and growl in unison. They were walkers, and each of them had the letter 'W' carved on their foreheads."

The Female Wolf ran to the second trailer and grabbed hold of the lock on its roller door. She looked over at the Male Wolf, who stood frozen in fear. "Hurry!" she shouted.

The Male Wolf blinked and ran to the last trailer.

 

Daryl wiped his bloody shop knife across Javier's shoulder, and then he stood up and sheathed the blade.

Abraham ran over to Samuel's dead body, and aimed the M16 rifle at his head.

BRAKA!

Abraham next walked over to the Archery Wolf's dead body, aimed the rifle at his head, and pulled the trigger.

BRAKA!

Morgan tightened the grip on his staff and glared at Abraham. "Why did you kill that man?"

"Why do you have to piss when you wake up in the morning? You just have to," Abraham answered.

Abraham walked past Morgan and into the lot, Morgan reluctantly followed.

Daryl picked up his Benelli shotgun and walked cautiously towards the warehouse's receiving bay. From behind the three stationary trailers came two blood curdling screams. Daryl stopped in his tracks, and listened as growls mixed with the screams; he instantly knew what was happening.

Abraham and Morgan heard the growls and screams and glanced at each before they came to a stop alongside Daryl. "Do you two know what does sounds mean?" Morgan asked anxiously.

Daryl grumbled and nodded.

From behind the trailers, walkers shuffled off the receiving bay and onto the pavement. Some fell flat on their face, but most landed on their feet, and began shuffling towards the three men, who quickly noticed the walkers had fresh blood dripping from their mouths and their hands.

"Motherdick," Abraham muttered in annoyance.

The walkers shuffled along the shadows of the trailers; their yellow eyes glowed, their growls grew louder, and their mouths opened in anticipation of another feast.

Morgan looked over his shoulder to see if the path towards the gate was still clear. "We better run for—"

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Daryl fired the last shots from his semi-automatic shotgun, and three walker heads exploded and their bodies collapsed to the pavement. The walkers behind the stepped over the prone bodies and continued shuffling forward.

Abraham grinned and raised his M16 rifle to his shoulder. "Here's dessert, you shitters!" he shouted.

BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA!

 

The row of walkers crammed between the trailers in front of Abraham fell like dominoes as the NATO rounds tore through their heads and into their comrades. When the M16 ran dry, Abraham ejected the magazine, and the walkers who weren't killed by headshots pushed their dead comrades off themselves, stood up, and resumed shuffling towards Abraham.

"You got anymore ammo?" Daryl asked Abraham while he re-loaded his semi-automatic shotgun.

Abraham reached into his jacket pocket and took out a fresh magazine. "I've got two magazines; twenty rounds each!"

"Don't waste those bullets!" Daryl shouted as he took aim again at the approaching walkers.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Daryl fired his shotgun three times and three more decapitated corpses to the pavement, never to rise again.

Abraham loaded the fresh magazine into the M16, pulled back on the charging handle, and aimed down the iron sights again as the walkers made it past the trailers and spread out.

BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA!

Abraham's careful aiming put down several walkers permanently.

Morgan gripped his staff in both hands, stood his ground, and took a determined breath. The nearest walker reached out to grab him, growling angrily.

SHUKK!

Morgan jabbed his staff through the walker's mouth and out the back of its head. He withdrew the staff and the walker to the pavement. A second one stepped forward, and Morgan swung his staff and dealt it a blow to the temple that would've been fatal to a living man.

BLAM!

Daryl's last shot burst another walker's head apart and covered its comrades with blood, bone, and brain matter, but the other walkers continued shuffling forward. Daryl, Abraham and Morgan began to move back slowly towards the open gate. Daryl slung the Benelli shotgun across his back and unsheathed his shop knife. A walker lunged at him, but Daryl grabbed the walker by its throat and then stabbed it through its forehead its forehead with his knife.

Suddenly, over the walker's growls, there burst a new sound.

HONK! HONK! HONK!

Daryl, Abraham, and Morgan glanced over their shoulders, and saw the Porsche 911 bearing down on them, with Michonne at the wheel and Glenn in the passenger seat.

 

"Run!" Daryl shouted to Abraham and Morgan.

The three men ran from the Porsche's path and the sports car smashed into the herd like a bowling ball through a set of pins; walkers were either crushed underneath the Porsche's tires or were thrown into the air, and when they fell to earth, they hit the pavement with a sickening thud. Michonne turned the Porsche to the left and drove away from the carnage; then she stopped the car and Glenn leaped out, aiming his PWS Diablo carbine at the walkers that were still standing.

BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA!

Several walkers heads burst as the NATO rounds struck them, and they fell amongst their dead comrades. Michonne stepped out of the Porsche, unsheathed her katana and ran towards what remained of the herd.

SVASSH! WHUKK!

Decapitated heads flipped into the air and their bodies collapsed to the pavement. When the growling stopped, Michonne stood amongst a small pile of walkers and shook the blood off her sword.

"We heard the gunfire, so we got in the Porsche, and got here as fast as we could," Glenn said as he ran over to the group.

Daryl looked at the Porsche, which now sported a cracked windshield and a dented front. "The Yuppie ain't gonna be happy with what you did to his old man's car."

Michonne looked at the damaged Porsche and snorted in contempt. "That's too damn bad."

The group inspected the prone walkers, and stabbed the few that were still growling. Then they made their way to the receiving bay, where they found the bodies of the Male and Female Wolves, torn apart by the walkers they had set free. Michonne stabbed them through their foreheads to prevent them from turning. Morgan closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

"Take a good look," Daryl told Morgan, "those are the people you wanted to help."

Morgan opened his eyes, looked at Daryl for a moment, and looked down at the Wolves' mutilated corpses.

Michonne carefully approached the door set on the side of the receiving bay. "Do you know if any Wolves are still inside?" she asked Daryl. Daryl unslung his Benelli shotgun, reloaded it, and shook his head.

Michonne placed her free hand on the door handle, and looked back at the rest of the group: Glenn and Abraham placed fresh magazines into their automatic firearms, and Morgan gripped his bloody staff. Michonne opened the door slowly, and peeked inside the dimly lit hallway. A moment later she stepped inside and Daryl and the others followed.

TO BE CONTINUED

​

 

Thank you, Ricky.

I originally thought about writing a separate story to conclude the Wolf storyline, but since there's only a few of them left they'll be a subplot. Just what will Daryl and the others find inside the warehouse?

I originally included a lengthy conversation between Glenn and Heath over Rick's leadership on the quarry march, but I decided it was taking away from the main focus of this chapter, so I deleted it. I also included a scene where Abraham tells a few rude jokes to the RPG which is leaning on the passenger seat, but it was stupid so I deleted it too.

I really enjoyed writing Spencer's rant. He's a spoiled brat with a lot of anger—and guts—inside of him.

 

@TheSlayingTaco1

Thanks for the compliment on my avatar. I love Caryl and McReedus.

Thanks for reading and enjoying this chapter.

Morgan was one of season 6's great disappointments, so I got even with him here. One of my favorite scenes is when Daryl slams Morgan's head into the dashboard for hurting Carol. Morgan also got to see that nobody, neither the group or the Wolves, gives a damn for the philosophy of Aikido.

My second favorite scene was Spencer's rant. He's a spoiled brat, and he's not going to get any better. He's definitely on the path for his conversation with Negan.

Speaking of Negan, I love the Easter egg with the cross. As I hinted in my previous reboot story "Starting Over," Daryl knows that the Savior's threat about Negan has some weight to it, and the group will encounter him sooner or later.

The Wolves are batshit crazy! By their twisted logic, they're infected anyway, so they willingly freed the herd to attack Daryl and Abraham, but let themselves get eaten in the process!

Congratulations on your new forum name. I miss the groups too, but maybe they'll return soon.

 

Thanks for reading, @PepperAnn. Hey, better late than never!

I love that moment when Daryl slammed Morgan's head into the dashboard. Spencer's rant about his parents and his "stolen" car was fun too. I hate both of them, but I might let up on Morgan, whereas Spencer is never going to mature.

The Saviors found the burnt remains of their scouting party, buried them, and erected a large cross in their memory. The cross has a carving of Lucille in the post. The captured Springfield Armory TRP that Carl took with him for the RV ride in the season 6 episode "East," had a carving of Lucille in the walnut grips, so I'm using her as the symbol of the Saviors.

 

Time for another weapons update.

The knife Daryl has been carrying since the season 5 episode "Strangers", is called the Blood Diamond knife. A collectors version was available but it apparently has been discontinued.

The Blood Diamond knife was in the Claimers' gun bag Rick buried outside Terminus in the season 4 finale "A." When the group escaped from Terminus (with Carol's help), Daryl took this knife to replace his lost Busse Team Gemini knife.

Daryl has used the Blood Diamond knife in my season 6 reboot stories "Starting Over", and "No Secrets Between Us." I prefer to call it the "shop knife" because it looks like a knife that someone in the show's prop department made from scrap metal and gave it to Norman Reedus.

 

CHAPTER 9​

Michonne took a few cautious steps forward into the cramped hallway. There was an oval lamp suspended from the ceiling, and up ahead was a door. She looked left and right and saw that spray painted along the walls were phrases like: BEWARE OF THE WOLVES, or ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.

The door closed softly behind Michonne, and she looked over her shoulder to see Glenn, with his left hand on the door handle, and his PWS Diablo carbine pointed up in the air. Abraham and Morgan stood ahead of him, and by her right side was Daryl, his Benelli M4 Super 90 shotgun pointed slightly at the floor ahead.

"You best let me take point," Daryl whispered. "These bastards are crazy, but I've got a shotgun."

Michonne considered it for a few moments but shook her head. "We made a lot of noise outside. If we're lucky, they'll think we ran off or got swarmed. This is our chance to surprise them again."

Suddenly the door swung open and a Male Wolf screamed wildly as he charged the group, a hunting knife in his hand, and the letter "W" carved into his forehead.

BLAM!

The slug from Daryl's shotgun struck the Wolf center in his chest and the impact lifted him off his feet and threw him back down the hallway and he landed on the floor. The ringing sound that followed the shotgun blast was like being inside a bell tower at high noon. The group covered their ears as best they could without dropping their weapons, and doubled over in pain.

"Goddammit, Daryl!" Michonne shouted painfully.

"Why did you use the street howitzer, you shit beetle?!" Abraham shouted.

"Why don't ya'll get in line and kiss my ass?!" Daryl replied as he gave them the finger.

Michonne stomped forward, stood over the dead Wolf, and plunged the tip of her katana into his forehead. She withdrew her sword and shook the blood and brain matter off the blade. The ringing in Michonne's ears faded away and was replaced by several light footsteps. She looked behind her and saw Daryl and Abraham, their firearms at the ready, waiting for Michonne's nod to advance.

Morgan and Glenn looked down at the bloody remains of the Male Wolf. "What a waste," Morgan said sadly.

"Are you serious, this nut?" Glenn asked in a shocked whisper.

Morgan looked up at Glenn with a somber expression on his face. "Not just him; all of us. If we kill to stay alive, what's to stop us from becoming just like him?"

Glenn shivered. He thought about his enthusiasm for the war against the Governor; could he ever feel that way again? What would Maggie, and their unborn child, think of him?

Michonne took a step towards the door, wrapped her left hand around the door handle, and looked back at Daryl and Abraham. "Ready?" she whispered.

Daryl and Abraham nodded.

 

Michonne turned the handle and slowly pulled the door open; the venetian blinds over the windows were partially open, letting sunlight seep into the room. Michonne put both hands on the katana's handle, took a step inside the office room, and turned on the light.

THAKK!

An arrow flew past Michonne's right ear and hit the wall behind her. Michonne collapsed to the floor while strands of her dreadlock hair floated slowly to the floor.

Daryl's eyes widened in anger and he immediately leapt into the office room. He caught a glimpse of several Wolves standing to the right and they froze in shock at the sight of his automatic shotgun.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The first slug struck one of the Wolves in the chest, and the second slug destroyed the crossbow in his hands. The third slug hit another Wolf in the stomach, and he doubled over and hit the floor like a safe dropped on his head.

It was fight or flight for the remaining Wolves.

The one Wolf that didn't run out the other door had a spear in his hands and screamed as he charged Daryl. At that moment Abraham charged into the room and struck the Wolf in the face with the butt of his M16 rifle. The Wolf dropped his spear and stumbled backwards. Abraham followed up his attack, but he stumbled over some blankets and a mattress that were on the floor, and he dropped his rifle as he crashed into the Wolf. Both men fell to the floor and the Wolf groaned painfully as the hefty Abraham fell upon him.

Daryl glanced down to his right at Michonne; she was sitting with her back against the wall, her legs were spread out, and her arms and katana were beside her; her eyes were closed.

Glenn and Morgan entered the room. When Glenn saw Michonne sitting against the wall he gasped in shock, slung the PWS Diablo carbine over his shoulder, and knelt down beside his fallen friend.

Morgan moved forward cautiously, the staff in his hands and ready to strike any threat that stood in front of him. He quickly noticed the gut-shot Wolf, curled up on the floor, weeping softly; Morgan then looked ahead, and saw Abraham sitting atop another Wolf, and the Wolf was making some eerie, gasping sounds. Morgan stepped over the twisted blankets and mattress, and was shocked to see the Wolf's bulging, wide eyes, and Abraham's hands wrapped around the Wolf's neck. Morgan grabbed Abraham's shoulder and tried to pull him off the Wolf's chest.

Abraham easily brushed Morgan off and the pacifist stumbled atop the blankets and mattress, but he regained his footing.

"Don't kill him!" Morgan shouted.

The Wolf stopped gasping for air and Abraham gave his throat one last wrung before letting go. Abraham sat straight, and looked over his shoulder at Morgan. "Whoopsie," he grinned.

Morgan looked down at the dead Wolf, his eyes and mouth wide open, with drool sliding down the corner of his mouth. Morgan closed his eyes and shook his head sadly.

Abraham unsheathed his Ka-Bar knife, and stabbed the dead Wolf in the forehead; he yanked the knife out, wiped it clean on the dead Wolf's shirt and stood up.

Morgan heard the whimpers of the gut-shot Wolf. He walked over to the dying man, put down his staff, knelt down, and took the Wolf's hand. The Wolf blinked curiously at Morgan who stared at the dying man and said nothing.

Abraham picked up his M16, wrapped its shoulder strap around his left forearm and ran to the open doorway that the surviving Wolves fled through, and partially closed the door.

 

"Michonne! Michonne!" Glen cried urgently as he shook her shoulders.

Michonne blinked her eyes open and when her vision focused, saw Glenn kneeling in front of her. She looked up and saw Daryl standing behind Glenn, looking concerned.

Glenn smiled in relief. "You alright?" he asked.

Michonne grimaced as she reached behind the back of her head. "Yeah, must've clipped the wall as I fell and got stunned."

"What happened?" Glenn asked.

"This," Daryl said as he pulled the arrow out of the wall, and a few stands of black hair fell from the arrow's field point.

Michonne's eyes widened with surprise. During her time with Rick's group, Daryl had shown everyone what an arrow can do to the human skull, so she knew how lucky she had been that the Archer Wolf had missed her at point blank range.

Daryl walked over to the dead Archer Wolf and glared down at him. The corpse was staring up at the ceiling, and his shattered crossbow lay by his side. Daryl's hands balled into fists and he plunged the arrow into the corpse's right eye socket, preventing him from turning.

"Damnit," Daryl muttered. "For a second there I thought he was the son of a bitch who stole my crossbow and motorcycle. He'd have to be a major dumbass to go back to his people after escapin' like he did."

Glenn stood up and offered a hand to Michonne. She held onto her katana with her right hand, took hold of Glenn with her left, and the young man helped the former lawyer to her feet.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Glenn asked as he put his hand on Michonne's shoulder.

Michonne rubbed the back of her head again and nodded. "I'm fine," she grinned, "but next time Daryl can go through the door."

Glenn nodded and looked around the room. It seemed like it used to be an office, but the desks, chairs, and cubicles had been replaced with mattresses, blankets, and pillows. The motivational posters and awards were still hanging on the walls, but they had been smashed. Also on the walls were more spray painted phrases: THE WOLVES' DEN, and DEATH IS FREEDOM.

"I count five mattresses," Michonne said.

"We've put seven of them to sleep. They've got another kennel besides this," Abraham warned as he stood guard beside the opposite door.

 

Slowly a low cackle began to fill the room. The group looked down at the dying Wolf who's hand Morgan was holding.

"Aw, what are you going to do, sing him a lullaby?" Abraham quipped.

Morgan looked up at Abraham for a moment, and looked down at the dying Wolf.

"You...you idiots," the wounded Wolf gasped, tears running down his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Abraham asked as he glanced down at his stomach. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the nutsack who got my guts torn all to shit by a shotgun shell."

The Wolf laughed harder as his blood continued seeping out of his stomach and onto the carpet. "You...you're from...Alexandria, right?"

"Right," Morgan said calmly.

"We...lost most...of the pack...raiding...that damn town. We lost...our Alpha, too. I...barely got out of there."

"You'll be barkin' in hell with the rest of the mongrels in another minute," Daryl said curtly.

The Wolf glared at Daryl, and spat a bloody loogy which landed on Daryl's new Red Wing boots. "Screw you," the Wolf said weakly.

"No, you're the one who's screwed, Snoopy," Abraham quipped as he stood guard by the door.

The Wolf laughed again, and his blood gushed out of his wound even faster. "No. I'm...not screwed, asshole. You're screwed; all of you. Living behind walls, a church, growing crops...it's all for nothing."

The Wolf stopped to catch his breath, while the group glanced amongst one another and waited for the dying man's last words.

"The old ways are never coming back," the Wolf spat with much effort. "When the shit hit...I tried holding on to them. But the Wolves found me...and taught me...the...only way to survive...is...animal instinct. Humanity...compassion...will kill you all."

The Wolf grinned, and a moment later his last breath rushed out of his mouth, and his body went limp. Morgan folded the Wolf's arms across his bloody chest, then bowed his head and a few moments later, picked up his staff and stood up.

Michonne walked over to the dead Wolf, pointed her katana over the "W" carved on his forehead, and drove the blade down.

SHUKK!

Michonne pulled the katana out of the Wolf's skull and she shook the blood and brain matter off her blade.

"So...are all of you going to search the rest of this warehouse until you kill the rest of them?" Morgan asked, gripping his staff with both hands.

"You're a Goddamn Edgar Cayce," Abraham quipped as he peeked through the space between the door and the doorframe.

Michonne thought of the Governor, and how her giving up searching for him led to Hershel's death, and the loss of the prison. "We have to, Morgan," Michonne said. "If even one of them escapes, it's a threat to Alexandria."

"That's paranoia," Morgan said.

"No. It's common freakin' sense," Daryl spat out angrily.

Glenn glanced down at the dead Wolf, as Morgan's warning about becoming just like the Wolves replayed in his mind; he started to shiver. "I...I don't know, guys," Glenn said as he looked at the group. "I mean, we came here for the food, not payback."

"Hey, I hoped this place was deserted, but it ain't, so we've got to finish the job," Daryl argued. He patted his biker vest for shotgun shells, and feeling that he had used them all up, collapsed the Benelli's buttstock, slung the shotgun across his back, and pulled out the Beretta 92FS from the small of his back.

"Listen to me," Morgan pleaded, "none of us has been injured; I say we keep it that way. If the surviving Wolves are still in the warehouse, tell them we just want the food, and they can go in peace."

Daryl glared at Morgan for a few moments; then he looked at Michonne and Abraham.

"Are we done talking about rainbows, because there're a few psychopaths beyond this door in dire need of being removed from this planet," Abraham argued.

Daryl clicked off the safety of his Beretta pistol and nodded.

"Let's get this over with," Michonne said, holding her katana with both hands.

"Yeah. Okay," Glenn said reluctantly, as he unslung his PWS Diablo carbine from his shoulder.

Morgan watched in disbelief as the group moved to the door.

Abraham tightened his grip on the door handle as Daryl, Michonne and Glenn stood to his right. "You ass kickers ready?" he whispered.

Daryl and Michonne nodded; Glenn halfheartedly gave a thumbs up.

Abraham crouched, and slowly opened the door.

Suddenly Morgan ran past the group and out the door.

"Morgan!" Michonne yelled in surprise.

"Shit!" Abraham hissed as he tried to grab Morgan's coat, but the pacifist was too fast for the soldier.

 

Morgan ran out into the center of the warehouse; the dirty windows across the far wall let in enough light to reveal the rows of shelving units; most were bare, but a few still held cardboard boxes with brand names printed on them.

A shadow appeared atop one of the shelving units, and threw a spear Morgan; it landed near his feet and ricocheted to his right, where it rolled into the darkness. Morgan stopped running and put his hands up in the air.

Daryl, Michonne, Abraham and Glenn ran out of the office, their weapons pointed in all directions. Abraham spotted the shadow atop the shelving unit and took aim.

BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA! BRAKA!

The shadow ducked for cover, and the NATO rounds struck many of the oval lamps and iron girders that spanned the length of the ceiling; shards of glass rained down to the floor, while bullets ricocheted across the warehouse. The group and he Wolves ducked for cover while bullets went into the walls, boxes, or through the dirty windows. When the ricochets stopped, Daryl saw a Wolf several feet away from him, laying on his stomach with a hatchet in his hands.

"Stay on the floor, prick!" Daryl shouted as he leapt to his feet and aimed his Beretta pistol at the prone Wolf.

The Wolf's eyes went wide, and he let go of the hatchet and put his hands on top of his head.

"Daryl, wait!" Morgan pleaded as he rose to one knee. "We can still talk this out!"

"It's too late for that," a woman's voice said.

 

Morgan looked forward, and saw a Black woman with a "W" carved on her forehead step out from behind a shelving unit. She was tall and thin, and her hair flowed in curls and stopped at her shoulders; she reminded Morgan of his dead wife, Jennie.

Michonne, Abraham and Glenn stood up with their weapons at the ready.

"Uh...hello," Morgan said awkwardly.

The woman blinked. "What?" she asked.

Daryl watched the two Wolves, but he huffed in contempt at Morgan.

Morgan looked over his shoulder and glared at Daryl. "I'm trying to start a negotiation."

"I don't think that bitch is interested," Daryl said.

The Female Wolf glared at Daryl; a crowbar slid out of her coat sleeve, and she pointed it at him. "Watch your words, redneck," she warned.

Daryl aimed his Beretta at the Female Wolf and grinned. "Or what...you'll carjack the Porsche? It ain't my car, lady."

Two more Wolves walked out of the shadows; one male, the other female, both young, both with the letter "W" carved in their foreheads, and both carrying machetes.

"If you came here to fight, let's get to it," the Male Wolf said bluntly.

"Now that's a negotiation," Abraham grinned as he unsheathed his Ka-Bar knife.

The two Wolves raised their machetes in preparation for a fight. Michonne tightened her grip on the handle of her katana and glared at the three standing Wolves. Daryl kept his Beretta aimed at the Hatchet Wolf. Glenn took a deep breath and raised his carbine up to his shoulder.

"Stop!" Morgan shouted, his staff raised high in the air.

Everyone except Daryl and the Female Wolf lowered their weapons. Morgan knelt down, placed his staff on the floor, and stood up again.

The Female Wolf glanced over her shoulder at her two companions. "Easy," she commanded.

The Two Wolves lowered their machettes. The Female Wolf—who was the new Alpha—looked at Morgan. "You wanted to talk...so talk," she said.

"I'm sorry that we killed some of your people," Morgan said to the Alpha Wolf, "and I'm sure you're sorry about killing our people when you attacked Alexandria. But we're only here for the food, not for revenge."

"I doubt that very much," the Alpha Wolf said coldly. "Our former Alpha intended for us to raid your town and burn it to the ground. This is your chance to not only avenge your people, but eliminate a threat. Why aren't you taking it?"

Morgan looked at his group; all except Glenn was ready to kill the last of the Wolves.

"The world's changed," Morgan said as he faced Alpha Wolf again. "Many of us think the laws—even our humanity—don't apply anymore. But I know that's not true."

Everyone except Daryl stared dumbfounded at Morgan. After a minute, the Alpha Wolf said, "If you truly believe that, you're a fool."

"I've been told similar things by members of my group, but it won't change my beliefs," Morgan said. "My strongest belief is that all life is precious. You and your people can just go, and don't ever bother us again."

 

Daryl kept looking down the sight of his Beretta. The Alpha Wolf remained impassive. The groups' and the Wolves' jaws dropped.

"Are you shitting me?" Abraham asked as he took an angry step towards Morgan.

"Calm down," Michonne ordered as she put a hand on Abraham's shoulder.

"Hell no!" Abraham shouted as he brushed Michonne's hand away and aggressively bumped into Morgan. The soldier stood at his full height, but the pacifist wasn't intimidated.

"Did you shit your brains out last night?" Abraham asked scornfully. "Do you really believe these four mongrels are just going to tuck their tails behind their legs and not try to bite us in the ass?"

"Yes," Morgan said confidently.

Abraham sneered and pulled his left arm back in preparation for a punch.

"Stop it!" Michonne ordered as she leapt in between Abraham and Morgan, while Glenn grabbed hold of Abraham's left arm and held him back.

The Alpha Wolf tightened her grip on the crowbar and looked at her three companions; the young Wolves waited for her to give a signal, while the Hatchet Wolf slowly reached for the weapon laying beside him.

"Hold it, assholes," Daryl warned as he pulled the hammer back on his Beretta pistol.

The Alpha Wolf's expression twisted in anger, but the crowbar went limp in her hand.

"Abraham, you need to calm down, before I knock you down," Michonne insisted.

The soldier looked at Michonne and then at Morgan; when he saw the determination in their eyes, he brushed Glenn off him and placed his Ka-Bar knife back in its sheath.

Morgan nodded his thanks to Michonne, and faced the Alpha Wolf. "I'm sorry about my acquaintance's outburst, but his feelings towards you Wolves are a popular one with our people, especially my friend Daryl."

Morgan nodded his head in Daryl's direction and the Alpha Wolf looked at him again, still aiming his pistol at the Wolves, the hammer pulled back and his finger on the trigger.

"I'm not a violent man, but Daryl...he is," Morgan continued, "he could easily put a bullet through each of your heads right now, and he'll sleep like a baby tonight."

"I urge you to accept my offer and leave. All we want is the food. If you come back to Alexandria, or if you kill any survivors in our area, Daryl and the others will hunt you down and kill you."

The warehouse was silent for a long minute. The Alpha Wolf stared at Morgan and finally she looked at her three followers. "Let's go," she ordered quietly.

The Wolves stared wide-eyed at their Alpha; she nodded and took a step towards the shadows.

"Leave your weapons," Daryl ordered.

The Alpha Wolf glanced at the crowbar in her hand and she dropped it to the floor. The cold metal bar landed with a clang and she walked away and was swallowed up by the darkness of the warehouse. The young Wolves dropped their machetes and followed the Alpha, while the Hatchet Wolf picked himself off the floor, brushed his shirt off in embarrassment, and followed his pack. A few moments later a door was heard opening and a rectangle of sunlight flashed in the corner of the warehouse; the door closed and the sunlight was gone.