"Ember, I thought everyone died." He says, beaming.

"Nah. Only all of the Woodburries died." I tell him and he shrugs. I'm sure he's assumed this already. "I also thought that included you, before now."

He rolls his eyes. "I wasn't always a Woodbury resident." I walk up to him and wrap my arms around him in a friendly hug. He hugs back before I let go and step back.

"So, how'd you survive the Prison anyway?" Jacks inquires, his eyebrow quirks up in curiosity. "You were deathly ill before."

"It was easy, I just ran out," I inform him like it's obvious. He smirks. "You?"

"Zaylee and I escaped together. We didn't take the Woodbury bus to get out. We were already about to set off on a scavenging expedition and so we were already outside the fences. Zaylee died, though, looters shot her when we were looking for food at a gas station."

I press my lips together. "Oh..."

"Yeah, and she was just learning how to adapt to the world too. And it was all just a big misunderstanding." Jacks says. "But yeah, I joined a group for a while then got separated when two people were fighting. Our camp then was invaded by walkers who heard one of them shooting the other. So now I'm alone." He says, shrugging.

"Whoa," I murmur.

"So what happened after you ran like hell was chasing you?" Jacks asks, smiling weakly. What a downer story he has.

"I—" I recall the warnings to not tell any outsiders of the Legion unless you absolutely know you can trust them. I'm going to lie, stay on the safe route when everything is looking shifty in the Legion. "I live as a nomad mostly. I found Glenn, but he continued without me to find Maggie. I wanted to find my brother." If I was a nomad in that situation, I would actually go with Glenn. Who would choose to be alone, with that choice's path drenched in uncertainty?

"And I'm assuming you still haven't found Daryl yet." Jacks states and I nod.

"No one else has been found."

"Well, I found a really cool place I stay in now. You can stay there too." Jacks offers.

I smile. At least shelter is one less thing I have to worry about. "Thanks, Jacks. Where is it?" My friend starts walking.

"Not far. It's a barn with a tree grown through its roof." He describes his base of operations as he motions for me to follow. I fall into step beside him.

"That sounds awesome." I enthuse. Pretty cool to stay in temporarily, though. I don't know how well it can withstand the elements with a hole in its ceiling.

------

Ember has left. She only left a note in black ink on the bookmark of a book Joanna hasn't read in a while:

Gee, what a goodbye.

Joanna put that fact aside, though. She didn't want to let another friend go. But she also didn't want to wait around and do nothing but look out onto an empty space that's occasionally scattered with staggering Deaders.

Joanna knows she needs to talk to Edith. Because Jo knows that Aviva is too smart to do this. And she wants to refute the idea that Aviva is using reverse psychology. There should be search parties out there, not hunting parties.

Joanna waits at the desks of the Library's first floor for Edith to emerge from her briefing. She's about to fall asleep, because of how late it is, when murmurs of confusion and the barking of orders at the entrance of the Library prevent her from passing out. Groggily, she raises her head from the desk she had her head laid down at. She sees with tired, sore eyes a cluster of people at the front doors. She raises an eyebrow.

A knuckle taps her shoulder and she turns around in her seat to see Nat and his red-ish orange hair, in all its glory. "Why are you here?"

"Waiting for Edith. Why are you here?" Joanna mumbles, already nodding off again.

"Reading about decomposition. And Edith left to go to sleep ten minutes ago." Nat tells her and Joanna shakes her head, sighing. She leans back in her seat.

"I bet that makes me look stupid," she says, yawning. "Is reading about decomposition how you cope with everything?"

Nat isn't looking at Joanna, but at the crowd by the door. "Yeah, everything..." He mumbles, distracted.

Joanna glances at the gaggle of people. "What do you think is happening?"

"I guess I'll ask." He shrugs before traipsing across the large room. Joanna rubs her eyes, gets up from her chair and basically sleepwalks back to her English classroom.

Nat looks back over his should and sees an exhausted Joanna half-heartedly make her way to the courtyard annex that connects the high school and the library.

Nat turns to face the cluster of people again. They appear to be surrounding something.

"What the hell does it mean?" A man grumbles as Nat skirts around him.

"Should we get Edith to deduce what it means to us? Probably. C'mon, gimme." A woman Nat sidesteps around says with unusual eagerness.

Nat steps into the center of the group. " May I ask what this is all about?" He asks loudly and the head gate guard, Everett, passes Nat a cardboard shoebox.

He gives him a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow before lifting the lid of the shoebox.

Nat heaves but prevents the bile from escaping his mouth. He swallows the small amount of vomit in his mouth and grimaces.

Inside the box is a severed pinkie finger with the color light blue painted onto its bloody fingernail.