And now, we get the other side of the story.

Well, the middle of it…

When we check back in with Madison and family they’re actually in the best shape we’ve seen them in all series. They’re part of a collective living at an old baseball stadium. They’ve got food, they’ve got fortifications, beds to sleep in. This is about as good as they’ve lived since the Fall.

Well, mostly.

Because Madison barely sleeps. Nick won’t leave the stadium. And they aren’t alone.

Cutting between the dire straits everyone is in the present day and the past is a smart move neither show has done before. It pays dividends in subtle ways too. We get a sense of time passing not just from what we see but from what we don’t see. It’s no stretch to feel like the dam, and whatever came after it, is what Madison and co are going through while Rick and friends are having their own season in Hell a couple of states over.

But while Madison and family have had things a little easier in terms of company they have it just as bad in terms of antagonists. On a run to try to find the parents of Charlie, a young girl in their care, Madison and co discover a burned out, cleaned out colony with a flag marked 457 above it. Later, a group of trucks arrive outside the stadium and essentially lay siege to them. These are the men John and Morgan and Al met last episode. But here, while they’re a threat they’re also a known quantity. Madison does what she always does, faces them down. Add that’s when things get worse…

The tangible sense of dread this season, as well as the radically different colour palate for the two time periods pays off again and again. The time jump makes the show more accessible than it’s ever been and cleverly puts the new characters, including Morgan, in the same boat we’re in. Something terrible happened in Texas, and while we don’t find out what this episode, we get some ideas.

Verdict: Massively assured, confident horror serial storytelling. The show’s been better than this. But not often and not by much. 9/10

Alasdair Stuart