Chapter Eight: Slip
'I won't keep watching you
Dance around in your smoke
And flicker out
You're not the light I used to know
I don't believe in safety nets
Strung below that make it alright
To let go
You gotta hold on'
Slip – Elliot Moss
The appearance of Bones had caused shockwaves to go through Alexandria. The dog was a loyal companion for Violet, having never left her side during her stay with them, and to see him on his own with no owner in tow, it seemed strange to comprehend what had happened. Wherever she went, Bones was right there. He never strayed too far from her, as she allowed him to walk ahead around Alexandria. As the gate was opened for Bones, Rick and Daryl noted that the dog remained on the other side of the gate, his rump firmly sat on the ground. A low whine escaped from him as his eyes stared directly into Daryl's eyes.
Daryl turned his attention to Rick for a split second, and as he did, a sharp bark escaped the mutt. Daryl returned his gaze to the dog, and narrowed his eyes.
"What is it, boy?" Daryl asked, as if the dog would start speaking like a human to him. He got a high-pitched whine in response. "Are you in danger?"
Bones began to dance around on the ground, his energy rising. He began to bark, almost like communicating and trying to tell the two men what had happened. His attempt at conveying his stress was blocked by the barrier of communication, but from the movements of the men as they began to follow him without another word, Bones could lead them to where they needed to be.
"What do you think it is?" Rick asked Daryl, as they moved into the thick brush the woods had to offer.
"No idea," Daryl replied, his footsteps quick as he tried to keep up with Bones. "It ain't gonna be pretty, that's for sure."
"You think Violet is hurt?" Rick questioned, to which Daryl shrugged.
"His reaction would say that," Daryl answered, his eyes travelling around his and Rick's surrounding area. The woods, though he found comfort in them most of the time, had dangers that were not often seen. Walkers crept out from behind trees; feral animals hid within the bushes; the enemy could take refuge in the shadows. With Bones racing through the woods and his body being engulfed by overgrown foliage, Daryl felt uneasy. He had not returned to the woods in a few days, having given up hope of finding her, and Bones had been the one to come to them. That could only mean one thing: Violet needed help.
He remembered his first dog. At the age of eight, he had been out in the woods behind his trailer home with his dog, Max, when he had fallen out of the largest tree he believed to be in existence. He had seriously injured himself and could not move properly. Max had sniffed his face, almost giving him the comfort he never received from his parents, before setting off for help. Max had returned with Merle, who had equally raced to his side. The love of a dog knows no bounds, and it proved itself time and time again.
As Rick and Daryl came out of the thick tree brush, they noticed Bones sniffing at the ground. Daryl whistled, capturing Bones' attention instantly.
"Where is she?" Daryl asked, to which Bones resumed sniffing at the ground and leaves from large overgrown plants.
It only took a moment to pick up her scent, and he bounded in the direction he came from. Daryl and Rick picked up their pace, and followed Bones as he led them to an old, shabby house. It looked out of place in the thick brush. It was a two-storey house, with an overgrown garden with various coloured flowers growing high. Wild roses bloomed near the window. Bones padded up the porch, as Daryl and Rick readied their weapons.
Bones led them into the house and up the stairs. The doors to all rooms were shut except for one that had been left slightly ajar.
Daryl pushed the door open gently, allowing Bones entry into the room. Daryl and Rick were cautious as they entered, and their eyes widened slightly as they took in the state of the room. Blood stained the bed and rug, and Rick threw a concerned gaze over at Daryl. He motioned towards the bed, where a visible head could be seen. Bones whined sadly as he took in the woman slumped against the bed. Daryl moved around the bed and took a deep breath as he took in the sight.
Violet was slumped against the bed. Beads of sweat formed on her brow, her skin was almost translucent, and her hands that once gripped her side to stop bleeding had fallen to her side. Daryl knelt, cautiously touching her forehead with the back of his hand.
"She's burning up," Daryl informed Rick. Bones barked, moving towards her injured side. Blood had seeped from her injury, staining her hands and the rug beneath her. Bones sniffed at the wound, which caused Daryl to lift the shirt she was wearing to show the wound to her side. A foul stench came from the wound, and Daryl turned to Rick.
"She's got a bad infection," Daryl said. He noticed the nail scissors and first aid box next to her. "It looks like she tried t-"
A loud creak and bang could be heard downstairs, which caused Daryl, Rick and Bones to pay attention to the movement downstairs. The walls and floor were thin enough to hear everything in the house, and they heard footsteps beneath them. They were slow, with a drag to its footing. A small growl escaped Bones.
"We need to get her back to Alexandria now," Rick said, to which Daryl nodded. He stood, throwing his crossbow over his body, and lifting Violet swiftly. Rick moved to the door, and opened it up. Bones followed Daryl's command, and Rick glanced downstairs to see a male walker stumbling around the living area of the house and gave Daryl a quick nod.
"Kill," was all Daryl needed to say before Bones raced downstairs and took down the walker. After Bones mauled the walker to death, the dog came back to Daryl's side. "Ya my weapon, yeah?"
The dog gave a small bark in response, and led them out of the house.
"He likes you," a mumble came from Violet. "And he doesn't like anyone."
The compound only seemed to grow with each day that passed. A handful of men soon became hundreds, and those hundreds quickly became close to a thousand. It was strange to see so many men, dressed all in black, obey the rules of just one man. Violet would spend hours thinking of how quickly he rose to power. Of how they were so willing to risk their lives to protect him.
Ever since she came to the compound, she was very aware of her being the only woman there. She was protected due to Negan's presence and warning to his men that she was his. She was his equal in a sense. Whatever she wanted, she got it. But like everything, it came with a price. And that price was her.
She hadn't seen her brother in weeks, and she needed to know if he was safe. She couldn't roam around the compound in case she escaped. There were always consequences for her actions. If she wanted to walk around the compound, she needed an escort. If she needed to go to the bathroom, she needed an escort. Negan made sure she understood that he was in charge, and if she disobeyed him, then Peter would pay that price.
"You know… I've never seen you smile," Negan's voice filled her ears. She was staring out of the window at the hundreds of men outside. Bars across the windows obscured her view. She didn't turn around to his voice, and it was only when he grabbed her hair to make her look up at him, she felt the nausea that never strayed too far away. "Smile for me."
It took her a moment to show him a forced smile.
"That was a pitiful attempt," Negan said. "You may be smiling in a minute."
He released her hair from his grip and moved across the room. He retrieved something from the pocket of his leather jacket, and came back over to her. He extended his hand in front of her, allowing the beautiful necklace to hang from his fingers. The silver diamond dangled in the air. It was beautiful, and exactly her style, but like everything now, it was tinged with bitterness.
"I want you to wear it," Negan said. A smirk escaped him.
"Here, let me put it on for you," he said, turning her around and placing it around her neck. He moved her in front of the mirror, and she offered a small smile.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"Not as beautiful as you," he whispered in her ear which caused nausea to swirl in her stomach. "As my first wife, you know what's to be expected of you. I get you jewellery and you…"
Violet turned around to face Negan. She began to strip herself of the clothes she was given; a skimpy black dress that was too tight.
It became routine. A punishment. She understood that she had to do what she had to do to keep Peter safe, and if she didn't, Peter would always get hurt.
The small contents of her stomach was emptied onto the infirmary floor, as the infection began to take its toll. She had been brought back to Alexandria, and taken straight into the small hospital they had. Carol had been on watch as they returned, and she had quickly assigned the role onto Tobin, and had followed Daryl and Rick. Violet's temperature was worrying, and neither one of them had the qualifications to care for someone as injured and in serious need of medical attention before. They had all gotten injuries themselves over the course of the outbreak, but none of them knew what they were doing.
Carol quickly hooked Violet up to an IV, remembering Denise's words from before.
"We need to cool her down," Carol said. "She's becoming hotter and hotter."
Carol took the lead and stripped Violet of her clothes, and passing them to Rick to fold. The three of them were all aware of the scars that adorned the unconscious woman's body, and neither one of them mentioned the large 'N' marked on her hip. Anger rose within the two men but they did not let it overwhelm them. They did not know what to say, and so they all said nothing.
