Fear And Loathing Part 4

The train that Michonne took to S1 was a steam engine that had once been part of a historical museum but had been repaired after the sanctuaries had been established. It was the safest means of transportation between the sanctuaries, especially since each side of the tracks between the three sanctuaries were secured by a protective, reinforced wall that kept the walkers that usually lined up along it from forcing their way trip took a solid forty minutes and dusk had settled when Michonne disembarked at South Station to a very sweet, very familiar face.

"Beth!" Michonne said, and held her arms out to Beth and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Michonne, it's so good to see you! And look at you, you're showing. What are you now, five months?"

"Six. It's good to see you too. I just wish it was under better circumstances. Where's Daryl?"

"He's guarding the prisoner you're here for. A lynch mob is waiting to get at the guy. I mean that," Beth said, and looped her arm into Michonne's to walk with her toward her cart. "There's literally a lynch mob at the jail. One old man even brought a pitchfork."

"It'll be an interesting situation to deal with, then," Michonne said.

"That's one way of putting it. How are things with you in S3?"

"Oh, honey, we've got trouble. A boy died from a walker attack."

"I read about that in the newsletter. Someone is suspected of letting the walkers in on purpose?"

Michonne nodded. "It's a former deputy of Rick's. A woman named Christine Todd. She's obsessed with him and thinks I'm no good for him because I'm black."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Oh, God. One of those people? I'm sorry, Michonne," Beth said, putting the cart in gear and merging with traffic for the ten minute ride to town.

The traffic was thick. It seemed that everyone in S1 wanted to get a good look at the guy who had raped and murdered a child. They wanted to look at him before they strung him up from one of the trees in the park. Beth had to park a block away and then fight their way through the crowd with Michonne holding up a pass with an official seal that identified her as a member of the court system so people would let her through.

Once they finally reached the line of armed policemen in front of the jail the angry shouts had started a dull thud at the back of Michonne's head at the base of her skull.

"Ma'am," one of the guards said on a nod, after examining her pass. He moved aside and allowed her and Beth to step past the barriers they'd put up. Once inside, another officer had to check that her firearm was registered with the court. After that final formality, she and Beth were finally allowed inside.

Daryl stood at the back of the jail wearing military fatigues. He was unrecognizable, with his hair cut so short and his facial hair completely shaved off. He'd put on a lot of muscle weight, as well, since joining the army.

He smiled upon seeing Michonne and then pulled her into a tight hug. "Michonne, good to see you."

"Good to see you, too. Look at you, I didn't know who you were at first."

He self-consciously ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. It was longer on tip, combed back, and completely shaved on the sides.

"Yeah, they did a number on me with the clippers. He's back here."

"Michonne?"

"Hi, Nate," she said, taking his hand. He sat at one of the desks, his head down and his eyes rimmed red. "Are you okay? Is Will okay?"

Nate Swanson was Will Swanson's husband. He shook his head and wiped at fresh tears. "Will is fine but I'm not okay. I tried to deny this guy entry into our society. Something about him didn't sit right with me. I was overrode by some bureaucrat in Huber's office who never so much as meets these people. I'm running for that position in the fall."

"You have my vote. I'm so sorry, Nate," Michonne said. "This wasn't your fault."

"That doesn't make me feel any less responsible, but thanks."

"So, what's this guy's name? Has a file been made up?"

"Eban Greenfeld," Daryl said. "Nate's got a file written up, yeah."

Daryl led Michonne to the cells and she got her first look at the offender she would prosecute. It was a capital punishment case and if she won it would end very badly for him at the end of a rope.

He wasn't what she expected. This type of predator usually never lived up to stereotypes. He looked like a paunchy, middle-aged librarian with coke-bottle glasses and male pattern baldness. He was soft all over but his muddy brown eyes were empty like those of a dead fish. No wonder Nate had had such a bad feeling about the man.

"I'm Michonne Kelly, the prosecuting attorney," she said. "Where is your legal representative?"

"Haven't seen her since this morning," the man said. He tried to put on a look of meekness that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm innocent of this crime."

"I'll read your file," she said.

"You have to believe me-"

"I don't have to do anything except leave, Mr. Greenfeld. I'm not allowed to speak with you about this case without your attorney present. I won't give her a reason to file for mistrial."

Daryl led her back out front. The shouts of the people chanting and calling for blood weren't as loud but they were angry and pervasive. Nate handed her a file, which she would examine that night before coming to court for the extradition process in the morning. She did take a moment to open the front page and look at the photo of the victim inside. He'd been adorable, with sandy brown hair and brown eyes that reflected childish exuberance for life. He was missing his two big front teeth. Michonne felt her heart ache for him.

I'll win justice for you, Jared, Michonne vowed silently.

"I'm taking her home with me," Beth told Daryl.

"I'll be home by ten-thirty," he promised, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

With a heavy sigh, Michonne turned to face the angry mob that had gathered outside of the jail.

---

"We're all clear, then?" Rick said, and received nods of agreement from Maggie, Glenn, and Carl. "We'll have to wait for Michonne to get home for this to work," he said. "But it'll work."

"I hope so," said Glenn. "Otherwise I may kill that woman myself."

"Get in line," Rick smiled. "I'll take up first watch on the couch."

"First watch," said Maggie, shaking her head. "I never thought I'd have to hear those words again."

"Me either, but this time we have to," Rick agreed.

"You sure you don't want me to take a shift?" she asked.

"Honey, you're pregnant and you're exhausted. Go get a full night's sleep. We've got it."

Maggie wanted to argue that being pregnant didn't make her incapable of pulling her weight but she was yawning too hard to vocalize any objections. Her eyes felt like they had sand in them so she just gave up and went upstairs to turn in.

The night passed uneventfully. Rick was tired when he woke up at six the next morning to the smell of coffee and sausage. Maggie was up cooking and Judy was trying to sing what seemed to be an angry song. Or possibly she was complaining.

"Daddy!" she yelled, her face pinched in anger. "Mommy!"

"Oh, that's what's bothering you," Carl said, from his place beside her at the table. "She misses Mom."

Rick looked out the window. The watery light that trickled through the thick cloud cover didn't illuminate much. It had stopped raining but the clouds didn't seem interested in moving out. It made things feel ominous to Rick, as though the storms refusal to vacate was indicative of the storm he and his family faced now wasn't about to go anywhere anytime soon.

"Michonne called," said Glenn, sitting at the table and wiping at his eyes. "She said she has court at eleven this morning. The train doesn't leave until seven tonight. She'll be at the jail by eight."

Rick nodded. "Good."

"Daryl's coming with her," Maggie informed them, smiling. "It'll be good to see him again."

The mention of Daryl coming to S3 seemed to lift a huge weight off of Rick's shoulders. There was no better man to have at his back at a time like this than Daryl Dixon. Not that Rick didn't appreciate Glenn and Maggie, he did, but Daryl was as close as a brother. He missed the man more than he liked to admit. Having him gone was like losing family.

After breakfast, Rick left to go to the office. He met up with a very weary looking Jason Fletcher. "You're off the hook," Rick said, "I've got good news. I'll be hiring some newly graduated trainees from S1. We'll have six officers here. That means better hours and days off."

"Oh, God, it can't come too soon," said Jason, stretching wearily. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"FYI, you'll have two prisoners to guard tonight. Michonne's returning from S1 with a prisoner for a capital murder charge."

"Oh, joy," Jason joked, and grabbed his keys. "Have a good one, Chief."

"You too."

Rick ordered breakfast from The Briar Patch and charged it to the state account. Once it was delivered he took it back to Christine.

"Is it poisoned?" Christine asked, looking at the biscuits and sausage gravy platter with suspicion.

"I don't kill by poison," Rick said. "I stab or shoot. When it's personal, like it is with us, I prefer to stab. I prefer to gut."

"Don't say things like that," she said, her eyes tearing up. "It hurts. All I ever wanted was for you to love me."

Rick snorted in disgust and shook his head. She was a pitiable creature. She was deranged and dangerous, too, and he wouldn't let any feelings of pity, slight as they were, stop him from doing what he had to do to protect his own.

He walked away from her and returned to his front desk. He had a long day of guard duty ahead and he'd try to fill it by catching up on reports and paperwork. The day passed at a crawl, stuck in perpetual dusk with the heavy clouds above occasionally bursting to pour down rain. When three p.m. rolled around and Hank Nesbit came on duty, Rick was relieved.

"I'll be at Glenn and Maggie's tonight," Rick told him. "Michonne and I are going through some things, personally. She needs some space so I'm going to give it to her."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry," said Hank. "Is it to do with this case?"

Rick nodded. "She feels I let her down. She thinks I may have cheated on her with Christine and that's why all this is going on. She'll have the kids at the house. Anyway, I won't be there so if you have to reach me for something I'll be at Glenn and Maggie's."

"Will do."

"Oh, and you've got a prisoner from S1 coming in. Details are in the file I left you."

"Okay. Thanks, Chief."

Rick nodded and headed out, glad to be out of the station, even if it meant he had to ride home in the rain.

---

Michonne leaned into the crib and kissed Judith goodnight. The little girl had clung to her from the moment she picked her up at Maggie and Glenn's house and brought her home. She hadn't been away from Michonne overnight months. As soon as she'd come through the door she'd settled down from crying to hug up to her. Michonne's heart swelled with affection as she looked down at Judy.

"My baby girl," she said tenderly, and stroked a lock of auburn hair from her forehead.

After leaving Judith's room she knocked on Carl's door, and entered after he called her in. He was sitting at his desk playing solitaire on his laptop.

"Careful with battery power," she said, and kissed him goodnight.

"You think everything will be okay?" he asked, looking away from his game.

Michonne nodded. "We've come through a lot. We'll get through this. Lights out by ten forty-five."

She showered the travel dust off and dressed in a pair of cotton pajamas before climbing into bed. She hated sleeping without Rick. She'd had a devil of a time drifting off at Daryl and Beth's house the night before. Now she was home but she had this pretense to keep up. The trap would work, though. Then all of this would be behind them and they could focus on their family and their lives.

Michonne didn't intend to drift off, just pretend to, but she ended up falling asleep. At once her dreams turned dark. It was before they came to the sanctuaries. She'd been in Rick's arms after he picked her up to carry her back to camp when she'd twisted her ankle. That was the moment she realized she felt more for Rick than mere friendship. In her dream the stench of rotted flesh overpowered her. When she looked up, Rick was a walker.

"Run," he groaned.

Michonne sat up, gasping for breath. The smell of rotten flesh was powerful in the room. She saw someone in the bedroom doorway.

"Rick?"

She received a moan as an answer.

"Shit!"

She turned on the bedside lamp and revealed that a walker was not only in the doorway, but one was also in the room, at the foot of her bed. She lunged at Michonne, who dove to the side, trying to avoid her bony, grasping fingers. Her feet got caught up in the blankets and it took a powerful kick free her legs. She shoved the walker away with her feet and rolled out of bed.

"Carl!" she shouted.

"Mom?"

Carl's bedroom door opened. There were two more walkers in the hall, in addition to the one in the doorway to her bedroom. She shoved past him as the female walker she'd kicked off her bed lumbered clumsily toward her.

"Stay in your room!"

Judith's bedroom door was closed and secure. Carl slammed his door shut. She wasn't worried they would be able to get in at either of the children.

Michonne bound down the stairs and headed into the living room. She kept her katana above the mantle. She felt her stomach swoop with dread when she found that it was gone. She next headed to the kitchen, looking for a knife, but they were all gone as well.

She needed a weapon to kill the walkers that had invaded her home. She searched the kitchen, hearing the walkers shuffle upstairs and pound on the door of Carl's bedroom. She was furious. Someone had led those filthy things into her home to attack her children, and her, which meant an attack on her unborn baby. She'd already lost one child to these monsters. She wasn't going to go through that again.

Michonne spotted the broom leaning in the corner. She grabbed it and with a swift kick snapped it half, leaving one edge beautifully long and ending in a wicked point. Without hesitation Michonne rushed upstairs and began taking out the walkers with the broom handle. She had only one left, in her bedroom, when she felt something slice across her leg.

"Michonne?"

She heard Daryl Dixon's voice from downstairs. She wanted to slap herself. She'd forgotten to flick the lights in the kitchen on and off to signal trouble if anything happened. He must have heard something, or sensed trouble, because he'd come in anyway. She turned around and saw that Christine Todd now stood over her, awkwardly holding her sword in her hands.

"Looking for this, bitch?" Christine said.

Michonne stared up at her, looked into the madness of the woman above her, and waited for her next move.

"I'm gonna kill you with your own sword," she said.

"No you're not," Michonne answered. "That sword is a part of me; an extension of my soul. You don't have what it takes to turn it against me."

Christine tried to thrust the sword down, into Michonne's midsection, but Michonne brought her foot around in a kick that knocked the blade from her hand. It skittered across the floor and landed at the entrance to her bedroom. The female walker left in her room tripped over the blade and fell face first behind Christine.

Daryl shot up the steps like a rocket and ended the walker just as Carl opened his bedroom door and leveled his gun at her.

"She's mine!" Michonne shouted."

"Mom, you're pregnant," Carl said worriedly.

"I can handle her."

Christine took a swing at Michonne. It was a good, solid punch that Michonne easily blocked. Regardless of how hard Christine tried she couldn't get in close to Michonne, even with her wounded leg. Instead, she took two punches without landing one. Seeing she was in trouble, Christine dove for Judith's room. She tried to slam the door in Michonne's face but Michonne shoved back with all she had.

Despite the pain in her leg, Michonne lunged and grabbed Christine by the shoulder, forcing her to turn. Christine elbowed her in the face and tried to go for Judith's crib. Judith was up now, standing and crying, rubbing her eyes. The room was flooded with light as someone flipped the switch behind Michonne. She kidney punched Christine before kicking the back of her knee joint, sending her down. With a cry of rage, Michonne landed three hard punches to Christine's face. She wanted to beat the woman until she never moved again, and she probably would have, if Carl hadn't grabbed her hand and halted her punches.

Christine lay on the floor, dazed but not unconscious. Michonne stood over her and shook her head while Carl and Daryl came to stand behind her.

"You fucked with the wrong family," Michonne told her. "Bitch."

---

Across town, at Glenn and Maggie's, Rick sat in the shadowy corner of the living room and waited. He wasn't disappointed to see a dark figure skulk in through the living room window and begin to search the couch.

Rick switched on the lamp, casting light across the room and startling Hank Nesbit, who recoiled in surprise.

"Looking for me, Hank?"

Hank saw the gun trained on him. He was too late to go for his own and he knew Rick would shoot him. Glenn and Maggie came into the room, also armed.

"How did you know?" Hank asked.

"The walkers in two different locations. I figured it would have been impossible for Christine to let walkers into town and up at the pond in only five minutes, so she had to have had help. Also, who reported the walkers at the pond? None of the kids had radios to report it. Then the day Judith was kidnapped you were on stakeout. How did Christine get past you? She'd have to use her cart to get across town to grab Judith and then make it back in time to jump in the shower as an alibi. You would have seen her get in her cart and leave, and return. Plus, you tried to defend her to me. You told her my daughter was missing so she wouldn't slip up and say she didn't know where Judith was while I questioned her, since I refused to say exactly who was missing. Let me guess, you're in love with her? She letting you fuck her in exchange for help in attacking my family?"

Hank refused to speak. Instead he cast quick glances between Rick, Maggie, and Glenn, calculating his chances of escape.

"You'll hang for what you've done," Rick said. "I promise you that."

"No, I won't," Hank said.

Rick knew what was coming. Suicide by cop. Even though he knew it was hopeless, Hank drew on Rick, who shot first. Glenn and Maggie, not willing to take the chance Hank would get off a lucky shot, also fired on him. He fell in a hail of bullets. His breath hitched as he struggled to breathe. Rick stood over him and aimed his gun at Hank's head.

"You'll see Christine in hell soon."

Rick pulled the trigger, putting him down for good.

Epilogue