Season 1:

Merle's Dealer

"So, by the end of the trial," Andrea says, taking another drink of her beer. "I had found out that the husband actually was fucking the nanny."

"No!" Jacqui exclaims, and the rest of us chuckle at Andrea's story. We sit around a fish fry while Rick, Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog are in Atlanta searching for Merle. Some of us tell stories from our lives and jobs before the start of all this, a way to escape everything for the night.

"Yeah," Andrea says, nodding. "I can't believe I actually thought that he was innocent!"

"Shane, your turn," Carl says, grinning. "What do you have for us this time?"

"Oh, boy," Shane laughs, rubbing his hands together. "Alright, um, I don't think I've ever told this one."

"Alright, Walsh," I say, gesturing for him to start.

"It was a few years back. Rick and I got called in to help with a drug bust. It was our first one. We got there, and I don't think I've ever seen that many drugs. I mean, there was just about everything under the sun in there. Yeah, those guys weren't walkin' free."

"Dude, your story sucks," Amy deadpans.

I laugh, taking a swig of Shane's beer. "Let's not tell Daryl I'm drinkin'."

"That's mine," Shane says, taking his beer back. "And don't call my story shit. I was just getting started."

"Darlin', your drug bust is in the fuckin' little league compared to mine," I say.

Everyone turns to look at me, and Carl slowly asks, "You were part of... a drug bust?"

"Ha, no," I say. "And no, for the record, I never did any drugs, either. But Merle, we all know that son of a bitch is a crack head. And trust me, he is. Merle, he had this dealer. Janky white guy, a tweaker. Name's Jesse. It was maybe three months before the start of all this, and my brothers are at Jesse's house. They're all shit-faced, Merle's high. Ain't even noon yet. Merle, he starts talkin' shit 'bout this show they're watchin'. Jess, his ex-girlfriend had this kid that he just loved. Low and behold, it's this kid's favorite show. And Jesse never sees the kid, so you know, he felt bad. Punched Merle, knocked him on his ass."

"What'd Daryl do?" Morales asks.

"He punched Jesse. Just started hittin' him, hard. Jess pulled a gun, put it to Daryl's head and goes, 'I'm gonna kill you, bitch!' Then, Merle pulled a gun on Jesse."

The group gasps, intrigued now. "What happened?" Sophia asks, eyes wide.

"Jesse punches Daryl in the gut, he pukes. Merle and Jesse start laughin', forgot all 'bout it."

"Where were you?" Shane inquires.

"I was at my friend's. I met up with the boys later, found out what happened. I went to beat the hell outta Jesse, and Merle pulled a gun on him before Jesse could pull his on me. I thought Merle was gonna shoot him, kill him. So I put myself between Merle and Jesse."

"You were ready to die at your brother's hand for a tweaker that just threatened your other brother?" Andrea asked. "What the hell made you do that?"

"I don't know. I mean, I didn't want to get caught up in a murder, but it wasn't that. I punched Jesse, he drew his gun. Put it right here." I tap the space between my eyes. "I didn't flinch. Told him, 'Go ahead, bitch. It'll be the last thing you ever do.' Obviously, he didn't shoot, 'cause I'm still kickin'. Think I impressed him."

"Wait, so let me get this straight," Morales says. "This guy puts a gun to your head, your brother's head, and you tell him to go ahead and shoot you?"

"I knew he wasn't going to," I say with a shrug. "Jess had too much to lose to kill me."

"How much could he have had to lose?" Shane comments. "He was nothin' but a junkie."

"No, Jesse's more than that," I say, grinning now. "Jess, he had this empire back in Albuquerque. He sold the purest shit around. I mean, Blue Sky was nearly a hundred percent chemically pure crystal meth."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," Shane rushes. "Blue Sky?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I've heard of that. Every PD, DEA, every agency across the U.S. has heard of it. Blue Sky's made by Heisenberg. And now you're telling me that you're buddy-buddy with the guy that sells it. You know Heisenberg?"

"No, I never met him," I say, shaking my head. "And Heisenberg's dead. Jesse told me when it happened. We, uh, we stayed in touch. Heisenberg died just a few days before the start."

"What exactly do you mean by 'stayed in touch?'" Dale inquires.

"Oh, uh, that." I scratch the back of my head, trying to figure out how to answer. "Well, um, I guess I can say it, since the world's gone to shit. Those laws don't really apply any more." I glance over at Shane. "I'm real glad you ain't with the DEA."

"You're a drug dealer," Shane says as it dawns on him.

"Hey," I object. "I ain't a drug dealer. One week, okay? It was just for a week. Jesse needed a hand, I needed money, and he trusts me. Jesse does more than trust me, he's gotta to let me keep more than he lets the others keep. He's a good guy. They kept five hundred, I got to keep one G. I made five Gs. I was saving it for a motorcycle when I turned seventeen. Guess that ain't happening now." Carl suddenly starts laughing, and we all look at him. "What's so funny, Grimes?"

"You," Carl laughs. "Every time I think I've finally figured you out, you surprise me again. Is there anything you haven't done?"

"Ooh, that is a good question," I chuckle. "And I'm not going to answer that."

"That's just gonna make me wonder more."

"That's the plan, Grimes." I take Shane's beer again, and he sighs, grabbing a new beer as he relinquishes the rest of his to me. I take another drink as I wink at Carl. "That's the plan."