In February, Dwight and Vincent came to Alexandria to speak to Rick and Eugene. Dwight really wanted to just speak to Eugene, but he needed a geek translator. That and he hadn't gotten over Eugene's ambush survival technique at Dwight's expense.
"What can we do for you gentlemen," Eugene inquired hiding his sarcasm in his deadpan voice.
"The Sanctuary has come to depend on the deliveries we get from Pete, I'm sure y'all have too. The fish ain't keeping though and we're running out of salt. We've tried going on runs for it, but clearing grocery stores for enough salt for just the next delivery, if we're lucky, ain't worth it. We've already lost someone for some damn salt."
"What do you have in mind," Rick asked.
"We're not exactly sure. There's 'sea' salt and we've got access to an ocean now," said Vincent.
"A saltworks. You aim to create a saltworks," asked Eugene.
"I guess. We just knew, you'd know what to do Eugene. I mean you designed an ammunitions plant for Christsakes."
Rick looked at Eugene with raised eyebrows signaling this was his call.
"Well, it appears as though you are in need of my unique services. Isn't it advantageous that you didn't beef me for the walkers," he glares at Dwight. Dwight rolls his eyes, leans back and unconsciously rests his hand at his crotch.
Eugene notices the flinch to his great satisfaction. "If I'm going to be distracted from the foundry, designing this for you, then by good rights you will need to do something for me."
"What are your terms," spit Dwight.
"Lead, 100 pounds. Every two weeks."
Dwight was about to answer when Eugene cut in.
"I was not done. I was pausing for dramatic effect. Your kind seems to appreciate that. We also want 40% of the saltworks production once it's operational."
"100lbs of lead, every two until we have operational salt production. The lead is our payment for the plans. We'll give you 30% salt production for one year if Alexandria helps us build it," Dwight counters.
"30% for two years if we help build it, but the Saviors operate it," Rick countered. Dwight nods. Rick turns to Eugene.
"When I get my first delivery of lead, you will get your plans," confirms Eugene. All the men stand.
"Dwight, would you hang back, there's something I'd like to discuss with you," Rick said, "Eugene, take Vincent to visit Michonne. We'll be done shortly." Eugene paused for a moment, it had been a long time since he'd been dismissed. But, he complied and showed Vincent the way out.
Dwight smirked when he and Vincent mounted their horses to head home. "What," inquired Vincent.
After about a mile Dwight finally spoke, "Eugene."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing," Dwight mocked, "we know what they need now to stay relevant in trade. We'll get our salt, they'll get their lead and we'll be square." He outright chuckled this time.
Vincent nodded. He'd have his sewer crew get it tonight. Vincent ignored Dwight's grim tone. Dwight was right to stockpile what their trading partners needed and leverage it, anything more than that, well, Dwight was no Negan.
Rick called a meeting of the community in the church.
"Thank you all for showing up today and thank you to the members of our security team currently on watch who cannot be here right now. Folks, I'm not good at talks, we all know this." There were a few muffled snickers in the audience.
"But, I wanted to call us all together today to recognize that we've been at peace for 6 months now. In these past 6 months, we've expanded our agriculture thanks to Francine and Josh, and their teams. We've transported horses back from the coast thanks to Michonne and Juan. We've rebuilt thanks to Aaron, Tobin, and their teams. We've shown our humanity our enemy thanks to Olivia, Gabriel, and their folks. We're prepared to defend ourselves and our neighbors thanks to Eugene, Rosita, and their crews. I'm saying all this folks because I want to point out the hard work we've all done after the darkest time in Alexandria." Rick turned and looked at the wall of names.
"But I would be remiss if I forgot to mention the one person who's shown us all how to pull together. Carl," Rick looked straight at his son, "I know I speak for at least Aaron, Tobin, Olivia, Rosita, Michonne, and myself when I say thank you, son." Carl glanced at Michonne in disbelief. He saw her beaming at him with watery eyes. "Carl, you've sought out how to help Alexandria recover in every way. We all owe you a debt of gratitude young man." Tobin and Aaron turned around to smile and nod affirmations to Carl. Carl's senses vibrated in embarrassment and appreciation, he could hardly hear with the humming in his ears. Finally, Judith innocently shouted what everyone was thinking, "Yaaaaaaay. Goo job, Coorl!" And she patted him on the leg. The crowd chuckled.
Rick smiled at her and moved on, "In a couple weeks, it will be time to get started again in the greenhouse and see if anything we found in the nursery it's going to work. We've also gotten word from the Kingdom that a herd has formed in between our two communities. So, I'm looking for volunteers to help clear that up. Dwight paid us a visit this week he wants help to build a saltworks that will preserve the fish we're all picking up oceanside. Eugene is designing it." Rick paused.
"And finally, the communities have developed a new policy of free movement. Members of the Kingdom, Hilltop, the Sanctuary, or Alexandria are free to relocate among the communities. We all do equal enough trade to support all populations. So, starting in March, expect some new neighbors. Now folks know that if they move here, they'll be expected to fight and contribute. We all know that's our reputation. Rosita's already developing a training program for new arrivals." Rick cleared his throat nervously. "But, that also means that for folks here who are looking for something different, you're welcome to at the other communities too." Rick relaxed a little when no one jumped up and volunteered to be the first to leave. "Ok, that's all I got. Now, Francine and Olivia want to talk about the new community idea."
Rick scooped up a wandering Judith and sat down beside Carl. He gave a quick pat on Carl's knee and whispered, "I meant every word." Carl smiled again briefly.
Carl felt torn. It's clear that Alexandria loved him, but as he had told Enid a couple weeks prior he didn't love Alexandria. He had done all of that work to not have to think about these walls, the names on them, and the loved ones outside of them. But apparently the more he tried to gain skills and knowledge that could extricate himself from his suffocation, the more irreplaceable he was becoming. He slumped in his chair uncertain of what it all meant.
Francine's soul searching had led her to a good idea. She wanted to bond as a community. Part of the old Alexandria was the dinner parties at the Monroe's home. They seemed stupid now, a holdover from before the infection. But the camaraderie was real, the conversations. She remembered the affect Pete Alston had on everyone in Annapolis. She wanted that for Alexandria. And that's what she told Michonne and Olivia. To feel like she was really living again she wanted communal gathering spaces and opportunities to just be together.
As lucky as they all were with Alexandria, it was built to be a D.C. bedroom community, not a self-contained life. Michonne nodded, realizing that however much she hated the aesthetics of the prison it did insist on social interaction. Your options were your cell or seeing other people's faces. Francine's longing had pointed out a glaring problem that if you are going to be putting down the dead all day, and maybe a few people too, that you needed somewhere to go that night besides back to your empty house.
The idea was to remove the pews from the church. That way the space could serve multiple functions. "So we're looking for folks to help remodel the inside here. Juan and Gabriel have already volunteered," said Olivia.
"And we're also looking for a few extra people to go on runs for chairs and tables with Aaron and me," Francine reported.
"Then, we'll need help with restarting book club and other activities," Olivia offered, "Rosita has recommended, em, Guns, Germs, and Steel. I'm still taking suggestions."
The Saviors returned a week later bearing gifts. "Well, this is a welcome sight," snickered Gabriel as he let the men pass through the gate. Eugene examined the chunks of old pipes. He looked up a Rick and nodded in an overly ceremonial way, "this is acceptable for our purposes. I am prepared to unveil my plans." Everyone exhaled exasperatedly before they had even begun.
Eugene laid out the plans on his dining room table. "It's quite simple really, the salt marshes near Wallop Island provide the salinity adequate for efficient water evaporation and ample salt production. Additionally, being once a government controlled island there should be adequate fortifications and structures for protection and production. Here is the supplies list, the blueprints, the instructions and the book."
"The book," Vincent asked incredulously. "You mean all you did was read a book?"
"That is not all I did, I gave you the location, lists, and plans as well. It is my advantage that I am well read, logical and actually do visit the library in town." They all stared down at the book, Salt.
Rick added, "when you are ready, if you need it, we will send a couple folks with you to help clear and build. Scott has already agreed."
Dwight flipped through the plans, "everything does seem to be in order. Vincent and Esme will lead our crew. Apparently, they cannot get enough of the shore. If this location turns out to be what Eugene says it is, we'll create a permanent outpost there."
Rick flinched just the slightest as the thought of the Saviors permanently expanding, but a year-round saltworks was going to be necessary. "We'll see you in a couple weeks then, with the lead."
"No, Carl, you're not going." Rick was furious.
"Yes, Dad, I am." The negotiator was done. He was 17 years old, had spent the last 7 months working harder than anyone else in Alexandria, and he deserved this.
Scott just stood there silently pleading for this all to be over. He had approached Carl earlier that morning asking for some bikes and carts for his upcoming trip to help build the saltworks with the Saviors. He figured he could use them for hauling small supplies instead of always hunting for cars, and he wasn't about to get onto a horse. Francine had told him what had happened to Rick and the crew when they were driving the horses back the first time. He had cycled with Carl all fall and knew this was the opportune time to use them.
Of course when he explained to Carl his need for the equipment Carl's eye lit up like a firecracker. "I'll come too. I can help."
And now here the three of them were and Rick looked at Scott with murder in his eyes. Scott was fairly sure he'd live, but started to fear he'd be sent away to live with the Saviors permanently after this.
"Carl, we need help in the greenhouse," Rick countered.
"There will always be work here that needs doing. I've done a little bit of all of it. You know I'm the right person to build this thing with the Saviors, dad. You know it."
"You are my son." Rick stepped back nearly biting through his bottom lip. He couldn't decide what to do next. There was no talking to Carl, nothing persuasive to say, he could see it in his eye. The prison was already otherwise occupied and physically restraining him would only last until so long. His mind raced. If he could go, or Michonne, then maybe. But Scott? Scott was a nice guy, but he wasn't family. Was it too cruel to name drop Enid? He weighed this idea, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Scott saw Rick thinking and for sure knew he was doomed. Then Carl turned to him, "Scott, I catch up with you in the morning. You don't have to stick around now." Rick looked up at him with the same murderous look, no more, no less, so Scott decided to take up Carl's offer.
When Scott had left, Carl turned to his dad and lunged at him for a hug. Rick unconsciously threw his arms around his son and squeezed him tight. He was completely disoriented. Carl said into Rick's shoulder, "I know you are scared for me dad. But just like you told me before, I am never safe. Not with the Saviors, not on the road," he looked up at his father now, "and not here."
Rick pulled away. Carl continued, "think of this like college, I'm going off to learn something, build something, and in a few months, I'll be back."
"Home," Rick said.
"Yes, dad, I'll come home."