A Fine Frenzy
The gnawing ache of hunger was what Gareth was used to after going through what he did during the siege. Even before, it was not like food had been in abundance at Terminus.
After the frenzy of the tank exploding, Gareth's main focus was doing something that would save the remaining members of his group. Albert was trailing along behind him, and Theresa was acting the part of his eyes and ears while his mind was a million miles away.
Greg and Mike were useless except for the extra muscle they gave the group. Even though Gareth knew his home was lost, he could not tear his thoughts away from his mother. The sweet woman who bore the brunt of the bandits when they came. She was found by him inches from death, and begging to be killed.
"Gareth?" Mike prodded, sensing something was amiss with his captain.
"We need to double back to the cabin. Find Martin. After that, we need to follow the plan and head for the woods."
Those words, spoken in a state of disbelief over what happened to them. Gareth once believed their security at Terminus was airtight, impossible for anyone to breach. He was starting to understand why and how so many places fell.
"What about them?" Theresa snarled, eyes aglow with a need for payback.
"What about them?" Mike scoffed. "They'll be sorry when they're gagged and we're eatin' what's left of 'em."
Gareth never thought about turning Rick and his group into dinner. Sure, the idea was appealing after losing it all after the explosion, but could he really dine on someone who killed his mother? He got his answer when he recalled the brutal way they murdered her. Maybe he never thought about eating them, but now he could not wait until they did.
"We have to be smart about it," Gareth warned, dropping his tone when a stray walker stumbled across them. "Rick is smart, dangerous."
"Won't make a difference," Albert shrugged. "We know how to bait 'em." Setting traps for people was what Terminus used to be, but Gareth never dreamed of doing it after.
Stopping in his tracks, Gareth raced forward and sank his knife into the walker. The act of doing it was physical, and it aided him in being able to release some of his frustration. Looking down at the dead face, he identified a man who looked to be in his early twenties.
"Find the weakest link," Gareth instructed, searching the pockets of the walker for anything they needed. "Once you have it, don't hesitate to reel him...or her in." Contrary to what most people assumed about him once they uncovered the brutal truth about Terminus, he was not a violent person who wanted to do anything to those he met.
Circumstances had forced his hand more times than he was comfortable with. People had taken his home that he worked hard to transform into a community; they raped the women that had no defense against their cruelty. Now they were back in the same position as before, only they had no recourse against a group of people who were larger than they were. Every instinct he had was telling him to wait before launching an attack on them, and that was what he planned on doing.
They needed to gather their strength before they attempted something of that nature. As appealing as it was to turn Rick on a spit and enjoy his meat, he would not do that unless they had a good enough opening to do so. First thing was first, and that was satisfying the growing hunger that was nipping at his insides. It always made him uncomfortable to feel hungry when he had been there once before. In the darkest corner of the train car, he fought the growing urge to go out of his mind with the insatiable hunger.
"Well," Theresa said, chewing on the inside of her mouth. "Once we find Martin, wherever he is, we'll be that much stronger than before." The hope in her eyes was not a foolish one; they would need all the people they could find for an operation like that.
"That's what we need to focus on," Gareth agreed, stepping over some broken tree branches that stuck out at odd angles. "Rick and his people, they're tired and weak from the fight. They won't last long out here without supplies."
"They probably have some already," Albert said, his eyes growing wide with worry over their own situation.
"Then once we take them down, we'll have plenty to go around," Gareth said, massaging his temple with his fingers. There was nothing he wanted more than to lay down somewhere and sleep, but he couldn't until he made sure everyone was fine.
In the hurry of getting out alive from the fight, he did not see any of his people escape from the bloodbath that Terminus became. He had Mike, Greg, Albert, and Theresa with him, but the rest of his people were unaccounted for. He had a reasonable expectation that Martin made it through unscathed, but he could not be sure. His mother, he found, had been torn apart by the dead when he was sure she would make it through.
Mary had been full of the same grit and determination that he possessed. Always a closeted 'Mama's boy' when everyone (wrongfully) assumed that it was Alex, he nearly lost the mantra that repeated in his mind whenever circumstances got the better of him: Don't cry.
When he found her (struggling for each breath she took) in the church that used to be a place to purge the feelings of shame and grief that came with what happened to them, he fought against the feeling in his gut that let him know she would not survive. Her stomach was ripped open, and her arms and legs bore additional signs of damage. That was still his mother, and no matter how many times he had the truth stamped into his mind, he could not accept it.
Holding her in his lap as he fought to find a loophole for her survival, she looked at him with eyes that had seen the loss of her family before the turn, and even after when her husband was killed. As a nurse, she knew what her odds were, and she had none. Standing with a strength that did not belong to him, he gripped the gun and shot her in the head.
"Hey," Theresa said, appearing at his side. The dark circles under her eyes became more pronounced under the intense scrutiny of the sun. "Where did your head disappear to?"
"Before she...before my Mom died, she saw who let the dead in." Her words were ingrained on his mind, and only furthered his desire for revenge.
"Who was it?" Greg inquired, ducking behind a tree when a group of the dead came through. "Someone from Rick's side?"
"Said it was a lady with silver hair. She was bathed in walker guts, and let the dead mosey on through."
If nothing else, Gareth wanted to find the woman who killed his last remaining family. Her death would have never happened if she had not been attacked. But first he had to find her, and possibly even fix his hurt shoulder that had been grazed by Rick's bullet.
Wrapping his hand around the site, he traversed up a steep hill that would take them to the cabin. Keeping an eye out for anyone who might be lurking around, he put his hand around his gun. In the distance, Gareth could hear the familiar growl of the dead.
"She can't be allowed to live. Not after what she did." Theresa was arguing, her voice cutting through like a knife.
"I know. Trust me." Stumbling forward when a dead hand groped his ankle, Gareth quickly put it down. "But we can't afford to be reckless now."
Once he scanned the area for signs of the dead and saw none, he signaled his group that it was safe to continue. Jogging up a steep hill that was right below the cabin, his natural confidence that Martin was fine, started to slip when he did not see a sign of him. The windows were dusted, but clear enough to see inside. Holding his breath as the group continued to inspect the cabin, he jumped when a moan came from behind the structure.
Raising his gun on instinct, he let it drop when he saw the battered face he wanted to see coming closer. Martin was alive, but his face bore horrific signs of being hit. No matter what (or who) was the cause, he could not deny that he was glad to see that he was fine.
"What happened to you?" Albert asked, his face growing whiter by the second. One eye appeared to be swollen shut.
"Chick beat you up?" Greg laughed, taking interest in his own sense of humor.
"Someone forget to watch where he was going?" Gareth smirked, though he could tell his humor was lost on his friend.
"More like I got my face rearranged by a dude who didn't even have the sack to finish the job." Martin's whine at the end, was not totally unexpected.
Looking him over more closely once he walked nearer to him, Gareth could indeed see that his injuries were from something human. Over the years, he had learned to tell the difference between punches. Glad that at least one of his people made it out, Gareth was already planning ahead.
They would need to find some place to rest their heads that night before planning anything more concrete. The problem was finding something that would pass for safe. Reaching into the bag of things he nabbed from the supply room, he pulled out a wrinkled map.
"Hey," Theresa said, stooping down to find a dressing for Gareth's shoulder. "Who were those folks that beat you up?"
Martin shrugged, shying away from the touch Theresa offered him. Shaking his head at the two of them, Gareth leaned over the map and saw a few places of interest.
"I don't know who they were. They had a baby with 'em."
"Was there a lady there?" Gareth asked, wincing when Theresa applied the wrap to his arm. "With, uh, silver hair?"
"Yeah, real samurai she was. Went out there with all guns blazin."
Theresa promptly stopped what she was doing to look at the man who cowered under the look she was giving him. Usually, Gareth would have demanded more from his friend, but he was sure he could not handle it that evening. His head pounded, and his heart ached with grief for Alex and their mother.
How could he have lost everything in one fell swoop? His brother, the one he leaned on when only he could understand, was dead after Rick turned him into a shield. Watching him fall like a sack of potato's, had been almost like watching a slow motion movie.
His mother, the woman who birthed him, had been nothing but a walker chew toy when he found her by chance. Glad that she did not have to suffer alone, that was the only mercy she received. Putting the bullet in her brain had been hard, but he did it out of a want to end her suffering.
"You didn't think to let us know that some crazy chick was headin' our way?" Greg demanded, stepping toward him.
"My hands were tied! Want to figure that out on your own?" Martin snapped, his hands flexing into fists.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," Gareth said, interrupting what would have likely turned into a raging fight. "Did they have names?"
Nothing would come out of finding her if he did not have the right information. Moving a backpack to the other shoulder, Gareth looked around for any sign of Rick or his people.
"Carol...Judith the baby...and Tyreese."
"We'll be careful, and we'll keep an eye out for anything else we might need." Gareth wanted to find the group, but he could not pull miracles.
"Well, maybe Mary can cook us up somethin' once we settle down someplace."
Gareth forced himself to keep walking. His shoulder throbbed, but that was nothing in comparison to how his heart hurt. He almost forgot that Martin would have no way of knowing about her death. While the two of them were never close, Martin still liked to share a joke or two with her, and never turned down an offering of her stew. Mary, for her part, tolerated him as part of the group. Part of them.
"She...she died, man," Mike said, saving Gareth the impossible task of talking about her death.
"She did?" Martin's face fell at that news. "When?"
"I don't know," Gareth said, holding his hand up when a walker tripped down a slippery hill. "I found her. In the church. She was already dying...told me about the woman that slipped through."