The ride
to Charlesville was quiet. Daryl ordered Glenn to drive as quickly as possible,
even in the heavy downpour of snow, while Maggie prepared their weapons and
loaded Daryl a quiver of arrows to make sure he didn’t run short when the shit
hit the fan as it was bound to.
“We’ll
need to find a way into town on foot, nice and quiet” Maggie said. “The walkers
will swarm this truck as soon as we get there.”
“Drive
by first, Glenn. Let’s see how many are in the streets,” Daryl ordered.
When
they arrived at the exit ramp Glenn slowed to a crawl. The streets appeared
deserted. The walkers were gone.
“What the
fuck?” Glenn said in confusion. “This makes no sense. There were walkers
everywhere when we left.”
“They
wouldn’t just go inside to get out of the cold,” added Maggie.
“Somebody
is pulling the strings on our rotten puppets,” said Daryl. “This is planned.”
“What
makes you say that?” Glenn asked.
“Look.
There’s fresh tire tracks. You said that ramp was clear when you came and left
but now look at it. Closed off with a truck that’s got a gun mount.”
As
though someone in town had heard Daryl speak a gunshot rang out. Snow puffed up
on the ground, along with a chunk of concrete, a few feet from them.
“Warning
shot,” Daryl said. “Did either of you see who fired it?”
Both
Glenn and Maggie scanned the area but saw no one. Then again that wasn’t a
surprise. The sky was heavy with snow and the air was hazy with light fog.
Outside the warm interior of the truck the wind howled, sounding as cold as it
truly was, and making Daryl shiver inside. Another shot, this one closer, tore
up the ground in front of the truck.
“Turn
around,” Daryl said. “I have a feeling the next shot will take out a tire.”
“We can’t
just leave them here--”
“We’re
not leaving anyone behind. We just need them to think they’ve gotten rid of us.
Like Maggie said. We’ll need to come in on foot, nice and quiet.”
Glenn
turned the truck around and started back the way they’d come. A mile down the
road he turned off and parked in the center of a narrow road, careful to back
in so they were facing the four lane.
“Think
they have lookouts posted in the trees?” Maggie asked.
Daryl
nodded. “I’m sure of it. We gotta try anyway. You can stay with the truck if--”
“He
goes, I go,” she said, nodding at Glenn.
Daryl
smiled shook his head. “All right then. Let’s head out.”
*****
“Two
shots.”
Rick
stood at the window of the second floor apartment he and Michonne had located.
Once the sun had risen they discovered the shop was fairly useless on the first
floor. There were no provisions, no weapons, nothing of value, but it was
blessedly empty.
Upstairs
was a different matter. There was a one bedroom apartment with a fully stocked
kitchen. Of course there was no fresh meat but there were plenty of canned
goods. There was also running water and a battery operated hotplate. Rick stood
by the window and looked out over the street below, which was empty of either
the living or the dead, while the delicious smell of chicken noodle soup filled
the living room.
Michonne
brought two bowls of soup to the couch. He sat down to eat with her.
“Damn,
this is good. I’d swear it was fresh.”
“Our
taste buds have adapted to shit so anything tastes good now,” Michonne said. “I’m
just glad we’ve got something hot to eat.”
Rick
nodded in agreement. “Wonder what they’re shooting at.”
“Probably
our people. You know Daryl isn’t going to just sit safe and sound at home when
there’s even a small chance we survived,” she reasoned.
“I wish
there was some way to tell him to do just that. The last thing I want is for any
more of our people getting dragged into this.”
Michonne
regarded Rick while he ate a few more spoons of soup. “You think we’ll get out
of this alive?”
He
shrugged. “No idea. Do you?”
“We
probably won’t.”
“What
makes you say that?”
“I
dreamed we died here,” Michonne said.
Rick was
trying to think of something to say when the phone on the wall across from him
rang. His fingers lost all ability to hold his spoon and it dropped into the
bowl with a sloppy splash. He’d thought this was over. He’d thought he’d gotten
control of his mind. Now it was happening again at the worst possible time.
“They’ve
got phone service?” Michonne said.
“Oh,”
Rick said, such relief flooding him that the word came out like a whimper. “You
hear it too?”
Michonne
was frowning at him in confusion. “Yeah.”
Rick
stood on legs that were nearly wobbly with relief and walked slowly over to the
phone. It was one of the old kinds of phones, a beige, wall-mounted, rotary
dial model that looked like something straight from the sixties or seventies. He
approached the phone warily, slowly, knowing that whoever was calling was not
going to simply hang up if he didn’t answer right away.
“You got
a phobia about phones or something?” Michonne asked.
“You
have no idea,” Rick said.
“Want me
to get it?”
“No, I’m
fine.”
He
snatched the receiver off the cradle, anxious to stop the shrill ringing,
anxious to speak to whoever had captured them.
Whoever
was on the other end of the line spoke as soon as the receiver touched his ear.
“Fuck
her.”
It was a
woman’s voice, speaking in a quiet, even pleasant, tone. She had a noticeable
accent. Rick thought it might be French.
“Who is
this?” Rick asked. “Why are you--”
Again,
speaking in a pleasant, conversational tone, as though talking about the
weather, the woman said, “Fuck her. Fuck her within the hour or I will set a
hoard of rotters upon you that you will have no hope of escaping from. Do you
understand me?”
“Yes.
Now will you answer--”
“Fuck
her even if you have to rape her. I am watching. I look forward to it.”
There
was a click followed by a dial tone. The dial tone was so normal, so
reminiscent of civilization, that Rick had no difficulty imagining that he’d
just gotten off the phone with an old friend who had delivered terrible news.
Outside there were no walkers. Cars and trucks and airplanes were operated by
living friends and family. He could almost hear it.
“Rick?”
He
blinked and hung up the phone. Michonne stood by the window, looking out onto
the street below.
“Walkers.
Maybe ten,” she reported. “We could take them if you want to make a run for it.”
“No.”
“Who was
that? What did they say?”
Rick
swallowed heavily. How could he tell Michonne what their captors demanded of
them? It was such a vulgar command. Fuck her even if you have to…
“I’m a
big girl, Rick. I can handle whatever it is they said. Let me guess, we have
hours before we die?” She nearly rolled her eyes.
“It was
a woman. She says I have to…I have to fuck you…within the hour, even if I have
to rape you to do it.”
Michonne
took the news silently, as though he’d told her he wanted to take a nap. There
was no sign of fear.
“What
else?” Michonne said.
“If I
don’t then she’s going to set a hoard of walkers on us that we couldn’t escape
from. She called them rotters.”
“So?”
she asked.
“So…what?”
“You gonna
do it?”
“What,
rape you? Hell no!”
Michonne
smirked. “Believe me, Rick, you couldn’t rape me even if you honestly tried. I
meant are you gonna fuck me or are we going to make a run for it?”
Rick
paced the room, wiping his mouth. “We’re being watched. She says she looks
forward to it. I say we find the cameras rip them out. Or we could make a run
for it--”
The
phone rang again. This time Rick marched over to it and snatched the receiver
up angrily.
“What!”
“Do
something to sabotage the cameras and I will set a hoard of rotters on you,”
the woman said. “Au revoir.”
“Shit,”
Michonne said.
“What?”
“See for
yourself.”
Rick
approached the window. There was another group of walkers approaching the ones
that milled about on the street below. Rick did a quick headcount. There were
now twenty instead of ten walkers.
“She
says if we do anything to the cameras--”
“Let me
make this easy for you,” Michonne said.
Rick’s
insides seized when Michonne’s hand came to rest on his groin. She began to rub
gently. He tried to resist reacting but the friction felt so damned good he
knew he was going to get hard, maybe harder than he’d ever been in his life, if
he didn’t put a stop to her.
He
stepped away from Michonne.
“This
ain’t right.”
“No, it
ain’t right,” she agreed. “It’s ain’t right but it’s necessary to survive.”
Rick was
already shaking his head no. He’d wanted to be with her, he wouldn’t deny that,
but he didn’t want it like this. He didn’t want to be watched, fucking a woman
he respected and cared about, for the entertainment of some psycho bitch he’d
never even seen.
“It’s
your choice,” Michonne said. “If you want to do this we can. If not, we can let
her send in a hoard of walkers and we’ll go out fighting.”
She took
a step closer to him, looking him dead in the eye the entire time, “Just
remember everything you have to live for.”
Carl.
Judith.
The
survivors at the prison.
The
friends who were probably on their way to save him and Michonne.
Daryl
had undoubtedly led a group to try to save him. He imagined Glenn was in that
group. Probably Tyrese, too. If he and Michonne died, all because he wanted to
be a prude… Maybe they could buy time.
Within
the hour.
Shit, he
thought.
Michonne
stood waiting. She would either fuck him like their mysterious captor demanded,
or she would go out fighting.
“Is
there anything you won’t do?”
“I’ve
either done it all or had it done to me,” she said cryptically. “There’s
nothing new or shocking left for me to experience. I can’t imagine there is for
you either.”
Rick
shook his head. “Except this.”
She
turned her back and stood at the window. She didn’t say another word. She didn’t
try to talk him out of it, nor did she try to talk him into it. She merely
waited for his decision.
After a
few minutes Rick approached her and put his hands gently on her shoulders.
Slowly he ran his fingertips down her arms until he reached her belt buckle.
She surprised him by nudging him away and turning to face him.
Michonne
nodded once before unzipping her trousers.
“Don’t
make it flowery and sweet, Rick,” she said. “I’m not into that shit.”
She
unzipped his pants, pushed them down, and then wrapped a bare leg around his.
Rick felt her soft curls against his cock, felt her warm flesh grind against
his.
“Just
close your eyes. Feel it,” Michonne said.
His
breath quickened as Michonne continued to grind him, faster and faster. When he
stiffened against her she pulled him close, slipped him inside, and began to
grind against him.
She wasn’t
wet. Not wet enough for a genuinely good fuck. There was a look of extreme
discomfort on her face but it didn’t stop her from moving over him.
“Michonne,
wait,” he tried, but she would have none of it. She leaned against the sill,
put her other leg around him and pulled him in deep. He had no choice but to
remain there.
“She
said fuck me, so fuck me.”
He was
paralyzed for a moment, until she squeezed him from inside. His hips bucked
forward involuntarily, making her hiss.
“Don’t
stop,” she whispered. “Our lives depend on it.”
So Rick
continued. He didn’t stop. He fucked Michonne against the windowsill, knowing
she wasn’t enjoying it, knowing that they were being watched by a woman with a
truly sadistic mind. Every thrust made him feel dirty, used, violated, outright
filthy, but he rode it out, pumping harder and harder, trying to get to the end
of this perfunctory act of ugly violation. He yanked Michonne’s legs loose and
came against the wall beneath her.
Michonne
put her feet on the floor, stepped back into her pants, and zipped them. Rick
did likewise, watching his cum slide thickly and disgustingly down the wall. He
swallowed several times, feeling suddenly sick.
“They’re
gone,” Michonne said.
The
walkers that had congregated beneath the shop window were indeed gone.
They
waited for the phone to ring and they weren’t disappointed. Rick walked over.
He felt dirty. He was soiled and filled with self-loathing.
“What.”
“Pathetic.
Not at all an enjoyable show,” the woman said. “Do better tomorrow.”
Rick
hung up and passed the message along to Michonne. She nodded toward the
bedroom.
“Let’s
get some rest. We need to go out tonight and see what’s behind the other
numbered doors.”
He
followed her to the bedroom and laid down beside her.
“Are you
okay?”
Michonne
smiled. “Nothing I haven’t been through before.”
“What do
you mean?”
She
answered by rolling over onto her side and refusing to speak. Rick didn’t press
her to elaborate. They’d both had enough forced on them already. He wasn’t
going to add to that burden.
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