And then one of those choppers came around for a shooting run. That was the last straw. The final action that decided the battle.
The chopper's run began with the courtyard where Tyreese and Michonne were just about finished clearing out the walkers in. The chain guns accuracy wasn't anything near perfect, but it didn't need to be. The walkers themselves were the first to take the brunt of it. Laser dots speckled them, like a case of measles, and then pieces of them began going here and there. They jerked and flailed under a rain of hundreds of bullets. Tyreese was our first human casualty from the gun run. He was hiding under a pile of rubble created by an RPG round, but several well aimed missiles would ensure that he was dead for good. Michonne was left alive, most likely on purpose for whatever the Governor had planning for her, and a couple of soldiers dragged her away towards their camps in the forests.
"Christ..." I muttered.
The chopper then turned it's attention towards the guardtower where Glenn and Maggie where. While the concrete structure stood up to the dozens of rounds aimed at it, they were so numerous and so pesky that all that the young couple could do was hide from the lead storm. They were pinned in there.
This allowed about a dozen of the surviving engineers to take on each guardtower unharassed. Little by little the other guardtower was torn apart, until final I saw Glenn jump off of the rails, and I didn't know if he'd survived the fall. It was dismal to watch, and it was dismal to watch Maggie follow suit. By this point, I had resigned to the inevitable as I slipped out and met up with Carl and Beth. Both of them were also distraught and had looked like they knew the near future. I didn't even bother checking if the prison was still in our hands. By the lack of gunfire I could already tell. And everywhere, men were cheering and swearing like it was their first time getting laid. I couldn't tell what exactly they were saying but I didn't need to. We'd lost.
"Carl..." I started.
"It's alright Daryl," said the kid. "They was no easy way out anyways."
I could tell Beth was going to say something as well, but she was cut off by the stomps of men coming from two directions. The surviving engineers on my left, the Governor's men on my right. No way out for certain. The three of us checked our ammo: enough for one last burst of mischief before the end.
"See you in Heaven," said Beth.
"Girl, we'll be seeing everyone," I said back. Then my attention turned to the engineers. "Alright big boys, tired of dick waving already? Come and have go at us if you think you can."
Both groups charged for us - for one second.
Then they stopped. I didn't immediately know why they did, but they kept training their weapons on us. I braced myself for a bullet to the skull any second now, but none came. Then I saw why the had stopped: another helicopter was on us with that damned machine gun. Hold tight, it was signifying, or these boys will be cleaning you with a mop and bucket.
A familiar figure roped his way down from the chopper door, and walked towards us, passing by the last remaining engineers, who backed off respectfully.
"Hello, hello," said the all too familiar voice of authority. "And how is your babysitting going along?"
"Quite smashing," I said while the faces of Beth and Carl turned red. "And you?"
"Well, let's see," said the man. "This prison is all but ruined. The Governor and I appear to be the two leaders now. And Merle Dixon's biggest shadow has more guns trained on him than scars." Major Hanson took out his own gun and cocked it. "I'm just as happy as I can be."
"Where the fuck's the Governor?" I asked rudely. I was surprised that it was Hanson and not the former leader of Woodbury to handle me personally. "I really didn't know you were that much of his bitch." To which I got a kick in the nuts that hurt like holy hell.
"Mr. Blake is still recovering from his injuries," said Hanson. "He will want to talk with you about your method of execution when he is finished. In the meantime, I wanted to chat about your heroic defense. I went through all the troubles and hardships of trying to put together this fancy strike force. Knowing what I knew about Rick and you, I expected some serious opposition. Turns out I hardly needed anything. Talk about disappointment."
"Is the only thing you're going to do is gloat?" asked harshly. Another soldier attempted to punch me but Hanson ordered him to stop and listen. I continued. "Look Hanson, if you haven't noticed, no one here is in any position to harm you or your men any further. The decent thing would be to let them go, without weapons but with some supplies or something. Compassion, do you have it?"
He seemed astonished. "Why, do you take me for some kind of Gandhi or something? Let you all go?"
"Come on," I was getting desperate. "What else are you going to do with us? Mass execution?"
"I was considering it. Are you pleading for your life here, Mr. Dixon?"
"Not just mine. Everyone's."
He thought for a while. Finally he said "What if I offered you a price? I'll do what you're asking of me, but..."
"But what?"
"You join Michonne at the execution the Governor's got planned for her."
My throat was crackly-dry. My stomach felt like it had been constipated and stuck for a long time. A voice in my head was screaming again and again NO!
"Okay," I said.
The responses from the home crowd were mixed. I heard a sigh from Carl, and murmur of hope from another person, and surprise all around.
"Daryl, what are you doing?!" The one protest came from Hershel, who had been dragged here away from anyone he was looking after in the sickroom. "This man works with the Governor. I fear he's no better than that monster-"
"Oh, shut up, old man," Hanson wasn't even trying to argue. He even had two soldiers hold Hershel down much to the dismay of Beth, who went to his side. "I know what you're thinking, and rest assured, it will not happen. I possess far more honor and respect than Phillip. In fact, let's be men and shake hands on it. Deal?"
"Deal," I said half-heartedly, and took his cold, powerful hand into my own dirty fingers. When we were finished and done with it, one of the Governor's men came up to me with a knife pressed against my throat. I recognized this one, he was Allen, one of that small group of Tyreese's that Rick had sent away in his bout of insanity. Allen looked bitter and pleased with himself at the same time. "You're not going to go slowly, Dixon. Your brother killed my boy. I only hoped he was here to see me return the favor."
Hanson looked at him with interest. He could clearly see the burning passion and hate that the Governor had seen in him as well.
"You know what?" Hanson asked Allen, who looked up at him with curiosity. "You can have the job of official executor. You seem like a good person to fit that bill. Now Phillip's got some pretty nasty ideas, go and tell him to pick one for Daryl. I promise you, he will suffer.
Allen went off to preform that task. Then Hanson's attention turned to his men. "Secure whatever areas of this place that are not walker free, and haul the redneck's sorry ass in one of the cells. Make sure he's heavily guarded at all times. Same goes for the rest of these people. Individual cells, and guards everywhere. I'm not anticipating any last minute assassination attempts or anything, but you can never be too careful."
As one of them took me by the neck, I thought of something that needed to be said. "You'd better keep your promise, Hanson. Otherwise..."
"Otherwise what? You'll kill me? You've got nothing against me, not even your own shit. But don't worry. Unlike the Governor, I keep my promises, I already told you. Well, most of the time."
It was all the assurance I was going to get. But it was going to have to do.
The cell didn't bother me. Neither did Martinez and Allen lurking outside it. It was my mind doing flips in my head regarding my decision.
More than once the phrase What the fuck are you doing Daryl? crossed my mind, but the decision I had made still seemed the logical one to make. No one else could have really struck that deal with Hanson like I did. No one had really pissed him off more than me or, rather, Rick, but he had been dead for days. So naturally I was the one to take all the punishment in his place. Just using the one bargaining tool I had left in the game - myself.
I racked my brains over and over, thinking stuff and things. It had to have been at least an hour. I knew I was about to die. Horribly, in some crude, terrible fashion. That was not for debate. But was there possibly some way to turn things around? Was there still a chance of redeeming the situation to some extent?
Eventually my mind decided it wanted to talk, and talk now. I began to pester the two men outside to bring the Governor to me then and now. Each of them suggested I do some very nasty and uncomfortable things. But I kept at it, and finally they sent someone to go and fetch the Governor and see if he was done with that bullet in his arm or something.
About half an hour from that, the Governor came down to my cell to have a private talk. His clothes were a disgusting mess, and his left arm was wrapped in some kind of bandage sling. This indicated that whoever shot him rescuing me had broken a bone or something. But what I took notice of most was the fact he didn't have his eye patch on. Either he lost it during the fight, or he purposely took it off afterwards.
His first words confirmed the latter. "Do you know why I have my eye patch removed, Dixon?" I remained silent. "So I can watch you and the black bitch die slowly and painfully with my own eyes." The good eye showed a hate and contempt that I had not seen in anyone else save my pa. "Are you going to beg for your life? Have any last minute death requests?"
"Actually I do." I was formulating a plan as soon as I heard those words about requests.
"Maybe if this prison was in the time before, on death row. But not now. Never."
"Honestly, I'm already going to die for your friends, in what I assume is going to be the most brutal and horrifying way to kill a man along with Michonne. Consider this my little fee."
"Your so-called 'fee' is the survival of everyone else in your group."
"Then I'm looking for a raise. It's really not that much. Do you still have a sense of honor or anything? At least hear me out."
The Governor turned away and whispered a few things to Martinez. Then he came back. "Well, Daryl, I'll listen. That doesn't mean I'm promising anything else, though."
That was all I needed. I briefly outlined my two simple requests.
The first brought a mildly confused frown and a murmur of "Well, ain't that cute." The second brought a malicious smile from the Governor.
"I'll see what I can do," he said as he left me.
AN: What are Daryl's requests? Not telling, except that the first one involves some lovey-dovey time between Daryl and Beth.
-Jokerang