Hershel stood in the cafeteria, listening to
another argument between Geoff and the other survivors from Woodbury. Ever
since Rick left the man had been nothing but antagonistic towards Hershel and
Beth. He’d done all he could to test their authority, especially Beth’s, and
proven himself to be an obnoxious ass.
“I say we should have more of a voice here,”
Geoff was saying. “They have their council and they lord their rules over all
of us.”
“What?” Mrs. Jennings asked. “That makes no
sense. Rick saved us from--”
“Rick is dead, Marva. He foolishly left that
redneck in charge and for what? For him to run off with two of our strongest
young fighters? To leave us in the charge of an old hick farmer and his stupid
little teenaged daughter?”
That was it. That did it for Hershel. It was
one thing to insult him. It was another to insult Beth. He started forward,
ready to slug the arrogant prick, when Beth stepped between them.
“You’ve done nothing but insult them since
Daryl left,” said Mrs. Jennings.
“We outnumber them,” Geoffrey said to the other
Woodbury survivors. “We shouldn’t have to live under their rule! We’ve done
more for them than they have for us. We farm for them. We wash, we cook, we
clean!”
“We do those things for the community as a
whole, Geoffrey, not just for them,” said Mrs. Jennings. “And I don’t like all
this ‘us and them’ talk. It’s just us. We’re a community here--”
Geoffrey wasn’t listening to her. She wasn’t on
his side so he had no use for her. If he had no use for her, she didn’t matter.
That’s how it had always been. That’s how it always would be.
“I’ve done more for them than anyone. Rick
should have left me in charge to begin with. After all I’ve done to improve the
quality of life in this shithole the least that crazy fool could have done was
left me to rule.”
“Tyreese,” Hershel said quietly, while Geoffrey
continued to madly rant and suggest that the Woodbury survivors rise up against
Rick and the others who’d saved them from starvation and death at an undefended
Woodbury. What was worse, was that it was beginning to look like he was gaining
an audience.
“Yes?” Tyreese asked, approaching Hershel and
Beth.
“Lock him down in the tombs,” said Hershel.
Beth nodded in agreement. “He’s stirring
trouble and I don’t like how some of the Woodbury people are starting to think
a coup is a good idea.”
Hershel nodded his agreement.
“Geoffrey,” said Hershel. “You’re under arrest.
I’m having you detained for trying to start an uprising. If any of you attempt
anything untoward you will join him in lockdown. Does anyone have anything to
say?”
The others immediately looked cowed.
“You can’t arrest me! I’m too important to this
group! I’ve designed things. I make life better! You can’t do this!”
He struggled, uselessly, in Tyreese’s iron
grip. He shouted his protests until they disappeared into the corridors that
would lead to the tombs.
“I saw the looks on your faces, Henry, Jacob,
Minnie,” said Hershel. “I could see you were ready to stand with Geoff against
us.”
“Hershel--” Henry started, but Hershel silenced
him with a raised hand.
“I’ve no doubt Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn will
return with Michonne and Rick alive and well. When that moment comes, Rick will
hear about this. I want you three to return to your cells and don’t leave until
I say so.”
Without protest, they stood and headed toward
their cells, their faces filled with anxiety that they would be kicked out of
the prison to try to survive on their own.
“Hershel.”
Dr. Subramanian, Dr. S for short, approached
with an expression on his face that worried Hershel. What else had happened?
“Yes?”
“I’ve got bad news.”
*****
“Damn it!” Lena shouted, when she saw the
gutted control panel.
“I can fix this shit,” Bobby said proudly.
“Easy.”
“Then fix it, kid,” Melvin ordered.
He ran over to the control panel and dove into
the mess of wires on the panel. The windows in the office were intact since the
bars reached out far enough from the window to keep even the impossibly skinny
arms of a walker from reaching through to break the glass. Maggie sat down,
favoring her injured leg.
“God, this hurts,” she said.
“We’ll get you back to camp. Your dad can
stitch you up and you can get some rest,” Michonne said comfortingly. Maggie
nodded. She couldn’t wait to see her father and sister again. Her bunk wasn’t
as comfortable as the bed she’d slept in the night before but she longed for
it. She longed to stretch out next to Glenn and feel his comforting warmth
behind her.
It took over twenty minutes but finally Bobby
snapped the control panel back in place. He checked the computer and grinned.
“We’re good. What now, Boss?” he said, speaking to Melvin, not Rick.
“I ain’t your boss, kid. The only boss you got
is you. I’d appreciate it if you would turn the whistles at the arena on.”
Bobby, Lena, and Grant exchanged looks. They
knew what Melvin had planned.
“You gonna feed her to them, ain’t ya?” said
Grant.
“Fuck yea I am. While they’re feasting I’m
gonna light them up. Let’s move.”
Melvin turned off the lights of the office and
watched as the walkers lost interest in the house and followed after the
whistles that only they could hear. A hoard of them, seventy-five or more,
shuffled past the house and toward the edge of town.
“We’ll give them an hour,” said Melvin. “After
that we’ll lock the doors to the arena and seal them in. It’ll be tight, but
when they have Evelyn to eat they’ll all cram toward the center.”
*****
Rick felt exposed in the street. He watched
Evelyn ahead of them, walking with her hands tied behind her back. Were her
fate his decision he would just put a bullet in her head and leave it alone,
but he wasn’t the judge here. She’d done plenty, from what he knew of her, to
earn this fate at the hands of her victims.
“Why don’t we just leave and let them handle
this?” said Glenn.
“I want to make sure its ended.”
“How do we know they won’t try to feed us to
the walkers too?” said Maggie.
“We’ll take ‘em down with us if they try that,”
answered Daryl.
He looked to Rick, who nodded. “Thanks for
coming back for us.”
Daryl bowed his head once. “We don’t leave our
own behind if we can help it. Right?”
“Right. How was Carl when you left?”
“Scared sick about you. He was going to charge
after you all by himself if he had to.”
Rick looked at the ground. He didn’t want
Daryl, or Michonne, or anyone else to see the sudden flood of emotion he felt
at Daryl’s words. His boy. He knew Carl loved him but he’d been so distant, so
closed off, since the shooting. Since Lori. He’d begun to give up hope that
there was a way to repair their relationship. He didn’t fear that anymore. He
just wanted this business with Evelyn to be over so he could start home to his
son, his daughter, and hopefully a new life with Michonne.
He felt her fingers find his and entwine
tightly. When he looked up, Michonne stared straight ahead. It was okay. He
didn’t need her to stare lovingly at him. He just needed her touch. He just
needed a sign, regardless of how small, that she was there, and that she loved
him as much as he’d come to love her.
*****
Evelyn was pleading for her life. It was a
horrible sound.
“Sound familiar?” Melvin asked the others,
though his eyes never left Evelyn’s. They stood atop the bleachers with Evelyn
still restrained behind them. She was still trussed tight.
“Please don’t make me kill my wife. Please
don’t make me kill my girlfriend, my boyfriend, my brother, my sister!” Lena
mocked cruelly. “Your response was ‘Kill or be killed.’”
“No mercy for us, no mercy for you,” said
Grant.
They looked to Bobby.
“Anything you wanna say, kid?” asked Melvin.
“I just want to go home,” he said, sadly.
Rick’s heart reached out to the boy. All of them felt for him. All of them
except Evelyn, who cared for no one. Evelyn, who never had cared for anyone but herself. “Let’s do this. Let’s give her
what she deserves.”
The four of them lifted Evelyn off her feet.
Below, the walkers were crowding around a tower that was emitting a sound only
they could hear. They clawed and pressed trying to get to the whistles there,
but Evelyn’s screams were drawing their attention.
“Please, don’t! You’re supposed to be better
than me!”
“Oh, Honey, we are,” said Melvin.
They hurled Evelyn, and her light form sailed
through the air. Her screams as she flew toward the swarming mass of walkers
drew their attention. They looked up as she landed amidst them. Soon, her
screams took on the ugly quality of agony as she was ripped to shreds and
consumed, alive.
“Let’s move,” Maggie said. Some of the walkers
had noticed them and were starting up the bleachers toward them. They started
down the ladder, moving quickly, and shut the gate behind them. Gasoline had
already been poured along the bleachers, which were all made of wood. Now
Melvin took the time to throw a burning lighter onto it and watched as the
flames raced along the perimeter of the arena with a mighty whoosh.
“Let’s move.”
“Think the whole town will burn?” asked Bobby.
“I doubt it. Why?” asked Lena.
“I want to stay. We got a pretty good setup
here. We could build defenses around the town to keep the rotters out. We could
live in the mansion. We could make this a good place. I mean…there’s so many
supplies and things. Why leave it to go to waste?”
“What about all the bad memories?” asked Lena.
“I choose not to dwell on them,” said Bobby.
“We can make new memories here. Good ones. We can make new friends, too. We can
decide who comes and who doesn’t. We can even use the whistles to manipulate
the rotters to our advantage, make them into guards of a sort. We could do
this. Rick,” Bobby said, turning to him. “You could bring your people here if
you want.”
Rick shook his head. “Thank you, but no. We
have a good setup where we are.”
“Then you can take some supplies,” said Melvin.
“I’m thinking you’ve probably got plenty of guns but you need ammo for them?”
Rick nodded. “We’d appreciate that.”
“Stay the night--”
“I’ve got a son waiting for me at home,” Rick
said. “I’m leaving now.”
Melvin bowed his head. “Then come with me.
We’ll get you some ammo.”
*****
Beth stayed up with Carl in the cafeteria. He’d
taken to doing that lately, sitting up until he fell asleep, waiting for news
of Daryl’s return, only to get up the next morning with a stiff neck. The poor
boy could barely turn his head.
“You’ve got to get some rest,” Beth said. “You
know we’ll tell you as soon as we know anything.”
Carl only shook his head. “I’m waiting up,” he
said, though his eyes were heavy.
“Then I’ll wait with you.”
He smiled at her and took her hand. “You’re an
awesome girlfriend, you know that?”
“You’re an awesome boyfriend.”
The door to the outside opened. Carl looked at
his watch. It was nearly one a.m. and he couldn’t figure out who’d be coming in
at this hour. Then he saw Sasha’s excited face.
“They’re home!”
Suddenly fully awake, both Carl and Beth rushed
after her. They ran as hard as they could and watched the headlights of the
truck illuminate the dirt path.
“What if he’s dead?” Carl said, choking on
emotion.
Beth simply took his hand in hers. She was
worried about her sister and Glenn, Rick, Michonne, and Daryl, too. She wanted
them all back, alive and well.
The front door opened almost before the truck
could stop. Carl recognized his father’s form under the light of the full moon
at once and relief hit him so powerfully he almost collapsed. He took off
running and didn’t bother to hide his tears when he felt his father’s powerful
arms wrap him in a tight embrace.
“Dad!”
“Son,” Rick said, hugging him tightly and
falling to his knees. It was so much like the first time Rick had found Carl
and Lori, coming into their camp at the quarry.
“Don’t leave me again, please,” Carl begged.
“I won’t, Carl. I won’t.”
Rick held onto his son and thanked God that
he’d made it back in one piece, that he and his son were on good terms again.
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