The road to Hershel Greene's farm stretched out ahead of me, the afternoon sun reflecting off the black hood of my 1967 Chevrolet Impala.
I drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the vintage watch strapped around my wrist. To anyone else, it was an ordinary-looking timepiece. To me, it was the interface for something considerably more useful.
"Red Queen, what's the current situation with my position in the CRM?"
A familiar female voice answered through the discreet speaker.
"Sir, there is no official record of your appointment as leader of the Civic Republic Military at this time. However, my investigation into your family background has produced several relevant findings."
I glanced at my watch.
"Go on."
"Your parents are reportedly serving members of the military, with exceptionally high ranks and considerable institutional influence. Their professional standing, combined with your established history with them, suggests that they may have been preparing you for a leadership position long before your death."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Preparing me how?"
"Your upbringing, specialized training, and the differences between how you and your brother were raised are consistent with a long-term grooming process. I cannot establish their exact intentions without additional information, but the available evidence suggests that your appointment would be considerably more plausible than it initially appeared."
I leaned back slightly.
"Well, that's interesting."
"Indeed, Sir."
I tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully.
"By the way, I've been meaning to address something. You're a combination of J.A.R.V.I.S. and the Red Queen. Calling you either one doesn't seem particularly appropriate."
"Would you like me to select a name, Sir?"
"No. I've already got one."
I smiled.
"From this moment forward, your name is Destiny. Register it as your permanent designation."
"Understood, Sir. My designation has been updated to Destiny."
"And one more thing. Stop calling me sir. Call me Master from now on."
"Understood, Master."
"Perfect."
I returned my attention to the road.
"Now, let's talk about something considerably more complicated."
"Which matter would you like to address?"
"Maggie Greene."
There was a brief pause.
"Would you like me to retrieve the available information concerning Margaret Greene?"
"No, I know who Maggie is."
"Then I assume you are referring to your upcoming reunion."
"Bingo."
I sighed, shaking my head.
"I'm not exactly the nervous type, Destiny. But I haven't seen that woman in a long time, and I'm not going to pretend the prospect of seeing her again doesn't have me thinking."
"Your elevated heart rate suggests that the reunion is emotionally significant."
"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be sure to recommend you to all my friends."
"You have not indicated that you possess any friends you would be comfortable recommending me to."
I stared at my watch.
"Did you just insult me?"
"I presented an observation."
"I'm going to regret giving you a personality, aren't I?"
"Statistically, that is possible."
I laughed.
All right. Maybe giving her a personality hadn't been a mistake after all.
The Girl I Never Quite Left Behind
Maggie Greene and I had known each other long before the world became acquainted with the dead.
Elementary school. Middle school. High school.
We'd practically grown up together.
We started dating during our final year of elementary school, back when relationships meant holding hands, arguing over the smallest things, and thinking the end of the world was your parents telling you that you couldn't go outside.
Somehow, we made it through all of that and stayed together until our final year of high school.
We didn't break up because we'd stopped caring about each other. We broke up because I had a future I wanted to build, and I knew I couldn't give her the kind of relationship she deserved while chasing it.
Our graduation marked the end of one chapter of our lives.
We parted on good terms. There was no dramatic betrayal, no screaming match in a parking lot, and no last-minute confession that changed everything. We understood where the other was coming from, even if neither of us particularly liked it.
At least, that was how it was supposed to have ended.
Maggie, however, had never been particularly talented at letting go of things she considered hers.
And I had always been one of those things.
The woman was beautiful enough to make a room forget what it had been talking about. That had been true when we were younger, and if the world I'd entered was anything like the version I remembered, it was going to be even more apparent now.
The women in this world seemed almost unfairly beautiful. The sort of beauty that belonged on a screen, except that there were no cameras, no scripts, and no guarantees that anyone would survive long enough to enjoy it.
But Maggie wasn't simply an attractive woman from a television series.
She was Maggie.
The girl who knew how I took my coffee. The girl who could recognize when I was lying from the way I tilted my head. The girl who had seen me at my worst and somehow decided that was a perfectly good reason to get closer.
And judging by our last few interactions, distance had done absolutely nothing to cure her attachment to me.
Which was precisely why I was nervous.
I was about to tell her I was leaving.
Not for a weekend. Not for a few weeks.
I was leaving for a life that might keep me away for months or longer, and I knew exactly how she would react.
I rubbed my thumb against the steering wheel.
"Destiny, remind me why I thought telling Maggie in person was a good idea."
"Because you previously determined that she deserved to hear the news directly from you."
"Right. Personal responsibility. What a terrible invention."
"Would you prefer that I draft a message?"
"No."
"Would you prefer that I inform her on your behalf?"
"Absolutely not."
"Then I recommend continuing toward the farm."
I gave a reluctant nod.
"Fair enough."
Besides, I had no intention of following the original storyline to the letter.
That was one of the biggest differences between me and the people who thought knowing the future meant knowing how everything would end.
It didn't.
I knew what happened in the story. I knew which people died, which people survived, and which decisions created disasters that could have been avoided.
But this wasn't a television screen anymore.
These were real people, with real fears, real relationships, and real lives.
Their future wasn't written in stone simply because I'd seen a version of it before.
I intended to change things.
I intended to save people who deserved a second chance, eliminate threats that couldn't be contained, and build something that could survive the collapse of civilization.
And I certainly wasn't going to sit back and let Rick have all the fun.
There was also Lori.
I wasn't particularly concerned about Shane Walsh becoming her next great love story. Not because I underestimated him, but because I had no intention of allowing events to unfold exactly as they had before.
If Shane became a threat, I would deal with him.
If he proved useful, I would give him a reason to stand beside me instead.
After all, for all his flaws, Shane had been one of the people who adapted to the new world remarkably quickly. He understood the necessity of making difficult decisions, even if his judgment occasionally took a detour through the land of terrible ideas.
A man like that could become dangerous.
Or indispensable.
Preferably the latter.
"Master," Destiny interrupted, "your assessment of Shane Walsh may benefit from additional consideration."
"I'm listening."
"His psychological profile suggests a highly adaptable individual with strong survival instincts, considerable tactical experience, and an instinctive understanding of group dynamics. His principal liabilities appear to be impulsivity, possessiveness, and an increasing tendency to justify questionable decisions when emotionally compromised."
"Sounds about right."
"Rather than treating him as an inevitable enemy, you could attempt to redirect his capabilities toward a constructive objective. With the right incentives and clearly established boundaries, he may prove valuable as a field commander."
I considered that for a moment.
"You think I could make him my right-hand man?"
"I believe it is a viable possibility. His relationship with Rick may complicate matters, but that complication is not insurmountable."
I smiled faintly.
"Daryl Dixon might have been Rick's right-hand man in the original storyline. Doesn't mean I'm required to follow the same arrangement."
"Correct, Master."
"And if Shane decides he doesn't like my leadership?"
"Then you will have to determine whether the problem can be resolved through negotiation, reassignment, or more decisive measures."
"That's a very diplomatic way of saying I might have to put him down."
"I am attempting to encourage a measured response."
"Keep doing that, Destiny. Somebody around here has to be responsible."
"An encouraging development."
I laughed again.
The farm was getting closer.
And with it came the inevitable conversation I had been putting off since leaving the house.
Welcome to the Greene Farm
The Impala rolled through the entrance to Hershel's property shortly after noon.
I slowed as the farmhouse came into view, taking in the familiar layout of the land, the surrounding fields, and the structures scattered across the property.
It was peaceful.
Almost suspiciously so.
In another world, this place might have been nothing more than a family farm. Here, it was a temporary sanctuary in a world that was about to become considerably less forgiving.
I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.
"Destiny."
"Yes, Master?"
"Prepare a security assessment of the property. Identify the most likely approaches, blind spots, and any immediate threats."
"Understood."
"And prepare discreet contingency plans for Maggie and Beth. If either of them insists on accompanying me, I want medical supplies, protective equipment, and appropriate transportation arranged. No unnecessary escalation, and no action without my authorization."
"Understood, Master. I will begin assessing suitable options."
I opened the car door and stepped out, adjusting my leather jacket.
I had barely taken a few steps when I saw her.
A brunette came running toward me from the farmhouse, moving with such enthusiasm that I barely had time to smile before she launched herself into my arms.
I caught her instinctively, my hands securing her as her legs wrapped around my waist and her arms locked behind my neck.
Maggie.
She kissed me before I could get a word out, scattering several more across my cheek as if she intended to make up for every day we'd spent apart.
I laughed, holding her close.
"Miss me?"
She pulled back just far enough to look me in the eyes.
"I always do."
There was no hesitation in her answer.
No attempt to hide how much she'd missed me, no awkward reunion, and no concern about whether she was making a scene.
She looked at me as though she'd been waiting for this moment for years.
And perhaps, in her own way, she had.
"God, you're still annoying," she murmured, brushing her nose against mine.
"And you're still obsessed with me."
She smiled.
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Depends on the day."
She gave me a playful slap on the shoulder before kissing me again.
I wasn't complaining.
Not even a little.
For a few moments, the rest of the world ceased to matter. There was just Maggie, the familiar warmth of her embrace, and the strange realization that someone who had once been such a significant part of my life was standing in front of me again.
Then she leaned back and studied my face.
"You look different."
"Better or worse?"
"Annoyingly better."
"That's what I like to hear."
She laughed, but her hands remained clasped behind my neck.
I knew that look.
She was trying to memorize me again.
And I knew that whatever happened next, she wasn't going to make this easy.
"Hello? Noir?"
I blinked.
Maggie narrowed her eyes.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Of course, sweetheart."
"What did I just say?"
"That I'm handsome, you missed me, and you have questionable taste in men."
She stared at me.
Then she burst out laughing.
"You are unbelievable."
"It's one of my better qualities."
She shook her head, smiling against my shoulder.
I let the moment last a little longer before finally asking the question I knew she was waiting for.
"So, what have you been doing out here? Besides apparently keeping tabs on my whereabouts."
Her expression changed immediately.
"I was making sure you were safe."
I laughed.
"Sweetheart, you know damn well that most things out here aren't a threat to me."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is?"
She looked up at me, suddenly serious.
"The point is that I care about you."
The humor faded from my expression.
"I know."
"And I don't want something happening to you."
I brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
"I'm still here, Maggie."
"For now."
There was something in the way she said it that made me pause.
She'd noticed the distance between us, even before I'd told her why it existed.
And that meant the conversation I'd been dreading was about to get considerably worse.
Behind her, the farmhouse door opened.
Hershel stepped onto the porch, followed by Beth, Patricia, and Otis. A younger man accompanied them, his expression changing from curiosity to immediate irritation when he noticed Beth's attention fixed on me.
Hershel's face brightened.
"Well, I'll be damned. Look what the cat dragged in."
I grinned.
"Same old shit, different day, old man."
He laughed, coming down the steps to greet me.
"Good to see you, kid."
"You too, Hershel."
He clapped me on the shoulder before looking at Maggie, who was still firmly attached to me.
"Seems like somebody's happy to see you."
"She's always been a woman of excellent judgment."
Maggie pinched my side.
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Too late."
Beth smiled from the porch, though I noticed her eyes lingered on me a little longer than necessary.
I filed that observation away for later.
There were more important matters to deal with first.
I shifted my attention back to Hershel.
"Actually, there's something I need to tell you all."
The change in my voice was enough to draw everyone's attention.
I took a breath.
"I'm enlisting. I've been planning it for a while, and I leave in three days."
Silence.
Not the comfortable sort, either.
The kind that descends when you've just said something everyone in the room wishes they'd misheard.
Hershel's expression hardened with concern.
Otis looked surprised.
Patricia glanced between us.
Beth's smile vanished.
Maggie, meanwhile, went completely still in my arms.
Then she slowly lifted her head.
"Excuse me?"
I looked at her.
"I'm leaving in three days."
"No."
I blinked.
"No?"
"No, you're not."
"Maggie—"
"Absolutely not."
She finally released her grip around my neck, though she made no attempt to move away from me.
"I'm perfectly fine with the fact that you have a life outside of me, Noir. I'm not asking you to spend every waking second at my side. But you're not going to disappear somewhere I can't reach you, somewhere I can't even make sure you're alive, and expect me to sit here smiling about it."
She gave me a smile that was all teeth and absolutely no warmth.
"That's one of the funniest jokes you've ever told, darling."
I looked at her for a long moment.
Then I sighed.
"Maggie."
"Don't 'Maggie' me."
"I haven't even explained—"
"I don't care how good the explanation is."
Beth stepped down from the porch.
"She's right."
Everyone turned toward her.
Beth crossed her arms, looking at me with an expression that was unexpectedly firm.
"I'm not letting you go off somewhere dangerous either."
The younger man beside her looked at her as though she'd just announced that she intended to set the farmhouse on fire.
"Beth, what the hell are you talking about?"
She ignored him.
Hershel rubbed a hand over his face.
"Lord, give me patience."
I could sympathize.
I'd barely been on the property for fifteen minutes, and already I had two Greene women threatening to follow me into a military career.
I raised a hand.
"Everybody, calm down."
The room went quiet.
"I've been planning this for a long time. This isn't some decision I made yesterday because I was bored. I've thought about it, and I'm not changing my mind because people don't like the answer."
My tone had become serious enough that Maggie's expression briefly faltered.
I didn't enjoy doing that to her.
But I wasn't going to pretend the decision was up for negotiation.
She swallowed, then lifted her chin.
"Fine."
I waited.
"But if you're going, I'm coming with you."
Hershel and I answered simultaneously.
"Hell no."
Maggie gave us a look that suggested she'd expected exactly that response.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really," Hershel said. "You are not abandoning your home to follow this boy into a military life you know absolutely nothing about."
"I know Noir."
"That is not the same thing!"
"It's enough for me."
I opened my mouth, but she cut me off.
"You said you've been planning this for a while, and you're not listening to anybody who tells you otherwise. Those were your exact words."
I stared at her.
She stared right back.
Damn it.
She had me there.
Hershel looked between us, apparently realizing that the argument was about to become considerably more exhausting.
Maggie folded her arms.
"So, what is it going to be, Noir?"
I rubbed my face.
"I'm going to regret this."
"Probably."
I looked at Hershel.
He looked back at me with the expression of a man watching his last remaining hope of a quiet life disappear over the horizon.
I exhaled.
"Fine. If you're determined to come, we'll discuss what that actually means. But you're going to follow instructions, take training seriously, and understand that I will not compromise your safety just because you don't like being told no."
Maggie's expression softened.
"Deal."
"I'm not finished."
She closed her mouth.
"You don't get to walk into a dangerous situation just because you want to be near me. If I tell you to take cover, you take cover. If I tell you to leave, you leave. And if you refuse to take this seriously, I'm sending you straight back here."
She studied me for a moment.
Then she nodded.
"Deal."
I narrowed my eyes.
"That was suspiciously easy."
She smiled sweetly.
"I'm sure you'll find something else to complain about."
"I'm counting on it."
Hershel sighed heavily.
"Fine. If you're taking her, you're responsible for her."
I straightened, meeting his eyes.
"I understand."
"No, I don't think you do. That girl has been driving me halfway to an early grave since she learned how to walk. She's my daughter, and I'm not about to hand her over to a dangerous life without knowing somebody is going to look out for her."
His voice grew firmer.
"You take her with you, you protect her. You make sure she has what she needs. And if anything happens to her because you were careless, Noir, I will personally come looking for you."
I held his gaze.
"Fair enough."
Then I softened my voice.
"I'll protect her with my life, Hershel. You have my word."
He studied me for several seconds before giving a reluctant nod.
"That's what I'm afraid of, son."
I frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"Because I know you. You'll do something reckless yourself if you think it means keeping her safe."
I didn't have an answer for that.
Mostly because he wasn't wrong.
Before the conversation could go any further, Beth stepped forward.
"I'm going too."
Hershel turned toward her.
"Beth, absolutely not."
Her boyfriend looked equally bewildered.
"Are you serious right now?"
Beth ignored both of them, looking directly at me.
"I want to go with my sister."
"That isn't a reason to enlist in the military," Hershel said.
"I know."
"Then why?"
Beth hesitated.
For a moment, I thought she might actually provide a reasonable answer.
Then she looked at me.
"Because I want to."
Her boyfriend's face changed.
"Beth, what the hell is that supposed to mean? You're standing here telling everyone you're going to follow him, and you haven't even looked at me since he arrived!"
She turned toward him.
"That's not fair."
"Not fair? You're practically staring holes through the guy!"
Maggie and I exchanged a glance.
I could already tell where this was going.
The young man stepped closer, his voice rising.
"You do realize you have a boyfriend, right? I'm standing right here!"
Beth's expression hardened.
"And you're acting like I can't make a decision for myself!"
"I'm asking why you're making this one!"
"Because I want to!"
"That's not an answer!"
"It's the only one you're getting!"
I quietly lowered my head toward Maggie.
"Should we leave them to it?"
"Absolutely."
She settled more comfortably against me.
I was perfectly happy to let them work through their relationship problems without an audience.
Then I noticed something change.
The young man's expression tightened. His jaw clenched, and his right arm began to tense as he shifted his weight toward Beth.
It was a familiar movement.
The sort of movement people made immediately before allowing anger to make a decision for them.
I moved before he could finish it.
My hand disappeared beneath my leather jacket, and I drew a military-issue Beretta M9. One smooth step put me behind him, the muzzle resting firmly against the back of his head.
The entire argument stopped.
I gave a low whistle.
"Now, that's a quick way to die. Might want to rethink whatever you were about to do."
The boy froze.
For a second, nobody moved.
Then he swallowed.
"You wouldn't."
I cocked the pistol.
The sound seemed impossibly loud in the sudden silence.
"Want to test that theory?"
His face drained of color.
I leaned forward just enough for him to hear me clearly.
"I'm not my brother."
His breathing changed.
I could practically see the moment he realized that I wasn't bluffing simply to make him uncomfortable.
"Look," he said quickly, "I wasn't going to—"
"Then this should be easy. Tell me what you were going to do."
He hesitated.
I waited.
"I was angry," he admitted. "I thought she was making a fool of me, and I wanted her to stop looking at you like that. I wasn't thinking."
"Clearly."
"I wasn't going to hurt her."
I studied him for a moment.
"Maybe you weren't. Maybe you were. That's the problem with acting before you think, kid. You don't always get to decide how far things go once you've started."
I lowered the gun slightly but didn't put it away.
"Listen, I understand jealousy. I'm not going to sit here and pretend I've never been a jealous man myself. But there's a difference between feeling something and deciding everyone else has to pay for it."
He swallowed.
"If you have a problem with Beth, you talk to Beth. You don't intimidate her, you don't put your hands on her, and you sure as hell don't make me wonder whether I'm going to have to bury you in this yard."
I let the silence settle.
"Now, unless you intend to finish whatever you started and accept the consequences, I'd recommend going home and thinking very carefully about the kind of man you want to be."
He nodded quickly.
"Yes. I think I'll do that."
"Good choice."
I stepped away and lowered the pistol before returning it to its concealed position.
The boy took several steps back.
Beth watched him with a mixture of anger and disappointment.
Then she raised her voice.
"We're done!"
He stopped.
For a moment, his fists clenched at his sides.
Then he slowly released them, turned away, and continued down the path.
Nobody tried to stop him.
I watched until he was far enough away that I was satisfied he wasn't about to turn around and do something stupid.
Then I looked at Beth.
"You know, next time, you might want to be a little more subtle about whatever feelings you've got going on."
Her cheeks flushed.
"Shut up, Noir."
I grinned.
"Just trying to help."
"You're impossible."
"It's a family trait."
I turned toward the farmhouse, giving Hershel a brief nod before beginning to walk away with Maggie still attached to me.
Behind us, Beth remained standing in the yard, watching the path her former boyfriend had taken.
I didn't know what she intended to do next.
And honestly, I wasn't about to make her decision for her.
Some things people had to work out themselves.
A Reunion Without an Audience
By the time Maggie and I reached the Impala, she had become unusually quiet.
That alone was enough to make me suspicious.
I opened the passenger door for her.
She didn't get in.
Instead, she caught my hand and looked up at me.
"Are you really leaving?"
I sighed.
"Maggie, we just had this conversation."
"I know."
"Then why are you asking me again?"
"Because I want to hear you say it."
I studied her face.
There was no teasing in her expression now. No playful smile, no attempt to make the situation sound less serious than it was.
She was afraid.
Not of the military itself, necessarily, but of what my leaving meant for us.
Of becoming somebody I remembered fondly instead of somebody I came home to.
I reached out and brushed my thumb against her cheek.
"Yes, sweetheart. I'm leaving in three days."
She closed her eyes briefly.
"And you're really going to let me come with you?"
"If you can follow the rules."
She opened her eyes.
"I can follow rules."
I gave her a skeptical look.
She frowned.
"Don't look at me like that."
"I'm trying to imagine you following instructions without arguing."
"I can be very obedient."
"That's the funniest thing you've said all day."
She smacked my chest.
I laughed, caught her hand, and kissed her knuckles.
"Come here."
She stepped closer.
I kissed her gently, and for a moment she seemed to forget whatever she'd been preparing to say. Her arms slipped around me, and she rested her forehead against mine.
"I missed you," she whispered.
"I missed you too."
"You better not disappear on me."
"I won't disappear without telling you."
She pulled back.
"That's not the same as promising you'll come back."
"No," I admitted. "It isn't."
Her eyes searched mine.
I wasn't going to lie to her.
The military wasn't a place where anyone could promise a safe return. I knew that better than most people.
But I could promise her something else.
"I'll do everything in my power to come back to you. I won't take unnecessary risks, and I won't treat my life like it's disposable."
She watched me for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"That's all I wanted."
I kissed her again, and this time she smiled against my lips.
"God, I've missed you."
"I gathered."
"You have no idea."
"I've got a few."
She gave me a look that made me laugh.
"Get in the car, Maggie."
"Make me."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Are we really doing this?"
She grinned.
"Maybe."
I shook my head, lifted her just enough to settle her onto the passenger seat, and leaned in to kiss her once more.
She caught the front of my jacket before I could pull away.
"Stay a little longer."
I looked at her.
The farmhouse stood behind us, the afternoon sun beginning to cast long shadows across the yard. We had a thousand things to discuss, a departure to prepare for, and an entire world waiting to fall apart.
For once, none of that felt particularly urgent.
I brushed her hair behind her ear.
"We've got time."
She smiled.
"Good."
I closed the passenger door, walked around the front of the Impala, and climbed behind the wheel.
We didn't leave immediately.
We talked. We laughed. We argued about old memories, teased each other about the people we'd dated after graduation, and rediscovered how easily we could fall into the same conversations we'd had years ago.
At some point, Maggie leaned over the center console and kissed me again.
I returned it, resting a hand against her cheek.
When we finally separated, she remained close enough that I could feel her breathing.
"Tell me something," she whispered.
"What?"
"Are you still the same Noir I knew back then?"
I considered the question.
"No."
Her smile faded slightly.
I took her hand.
"But I'm still the man who cared about you. That part hasn't changed."
She looked at our joined hands, then back at me.
"Good."
We stayed together for a while longer, letting the rest of the world wait outside the windows.
Eventually, the sun began to disappear behind the trees.
I glanced at the dashboard clock and swore under my breath.
"Damn."
Maggie looked up.
"What?"
"We've been here for hours."
She smiled innocently.
"You say that like you weren't enjoying yourself."
"I was. That's the problem."
I started the engine.
"Come on. I need to get you back before Hershel decides I've kidnapped his daughter."
"He'd probably blame you even if I kidnapped you."
"Fair point."
She laughed, fastening her seat belt as I pulled away from the roadside.
The Impala settled into the empty highway, its headlights illuminating the asphalt ahead.
I checked the rearview mirror, then the road behind us, then the surrounding stretches of darkness.
The habit was automatic.
The Punisher template had reinforced something I'd already learned in my previous life: the greatest danger wasn't always the threat directly in front of you.
Sometimes it was the one you hadn't noticed yet.
"Destiny," I said quietly.
"Yes, Master?"
"Give me a full assessment of the available female characters across the main series and spin-offs. Identify the women with valuable skills, leadership potential, medical or scientific expertise, tactical ability, intelligence, logistical experience, or other capabilities that could make them useful to the organization I'm building."
"Understood. I will prioritize verified skills, demonstrated competence, psychological resilience, leadership potential, and potential compatibility with your objectives. I will also distinguish established information from speculation."
"Good. Include Maggie and Beth in the assessment, but don't assume either of them is automatically suitable for a military role just because they're close to me."
"Understood, Master."
I glanced at my watch.
"And I want the list organized by specialty. Medical personnel, researchers, strategists, fighters, engineers, scouts, negotiators, and potential commanders. Include characters from the spin-offs as well."
"I will prepare the assessment."
"Perfect."
I settled back into my seat, a slow smile spreading across my face.
For years, I'd been trained to survive other people's wars.
Now I had a chance to build something of my own.
A network. An organization. A force that could protect people, secure resources, and establish order without depending on Rick's ability to inspire everyone around him.
Rick could be the man people followed because they believed in him.
I intended to be the man people followed because they knew I could get the job done.
Ideally, I'd give them both reasons.
I watched the road unfold ahead, the engine humming beneath us as the night settled over the countryside.
"It's time to get this party started," I murmured.
Maggie looked over at me.
"What was that?"
I glanced at her, the corner of my mouth lifting.
"Nothing, sweetheart."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're planning something."
"I'm always planning something."
"Should I be worried?"
I reached over and took her hand.
"Not about me."
She gave me a skeptical look, but she didn't let go.
I smiled and returned my attention to the road.
Three days until deployment.
A new life waiting to be built.
And an entire world that had absolutely no idea what was coming.
For the first time in a long time, I couldn't wait to find out what happened next.