"You really think these country bumpkins have any idea what's going on?" Negan asks as they head to Charlottesville to pick up said bumpkins.
Rick's sitting in the passenger seat of the Mazda, as it's the only vehicle they own that's big enough to comfortably hold four grown men. Before leaving the house, Rick emptied the weapons cache into the trunk of Negan's Charger, in case the car is searched when they enter the park.
"Well, this country bumpkin thinks they know a little more than we do," Rick says.
"Don't pull that 'Thank God I'm a Country Boy' shit on me. How'd you get them to come all the way out here, anyway?"
"Guess I'm just persuasive."
"Or they heard your accent and thought, 'good, one of us.'"
Rick tosses Negan a cynical half-smile; they both know Negan's teasing holds no weight. At this point, it's just par for the course. "Remember to keep the flirting to a minimum. Not all of us country bumpkins are as open-minded as I am."
"I know; I'm just busting your balls before I have to play nice."
"Wouldn't hurt you to play nice more often. I've got sensitive balls."
"Don't I know it." Negan turns up the stereo.
"Is this my punishment for bringing these guys in?" Rick wonders. They're listening to the band's newly-released remix album, which Negan is oddly fond of. Eugene's talent for electronic sounds has breathed new life into some of the group's older songs. Negan thinks at least one of the remixes will be in a commercial by the end of the year.
Negan laughs; Rick has voiced his displeasure with the modernized songs more than once. "It's number one on iTunes, Rick. Can't argue with that. The people have spoken."
The Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport is a quick jaunt to Shenandoah National Park; the Dixon brothers must have done their research. Negan pulls up curbside and spots them immediately. They're hard to miss; Daryl's wearing a plaid shirt that's just as ripped as his jeans, and a leather vest. Merle is decked out in camouflage colors: khaki shirt, dark green cargo pants. They're both wearing hiking boots that must have been hell taking off in the airport security line.
"Well, at least they dress the part," Negan says. He dials down the music; he doubts the Dixons will appreciate the EDM flavor of the Saviors' past hits.
Rick hops out of the car, introduces himself to the two fellow hunters. After a quick exchange of words, Daryl and Merle load their duffel bags into the trunk, then squeeze themselves into the backseat. It's almost comical, Negan thinks, seeing those two scraggly, rugged men in the usual seats of Carl and Judith.
"Howdy-fuckin'-ho, boys," Negan says with a small wave. "I'm Negan, Rick's hunting partner. Thanks for coming up."
"Negan? Like the rock star?" Daryl wonders, in a way that says if he's wrong he doesn't much care.
Negan gets them onto the road. "Yeah, that's my day job."
Merle barks a raspy laugh. "No shit?"
"I shit you not, my man."
"Why'd you choose this?" Daryl asks.
"What, hunting?" Negan withholds the truth. "The way things are going, I don't think the band's gonna last too much longer."
"That's a goddamn shame," Merle says. "Your first record is up there with the best of 'em."
"Blush, blush."
In the rear-view mirror, Daryl looks squinty and dissatisfied, like he doesn't appreciate his brother gushing over Negan's discography. Or, perhaps, he senses that Negan is hiding something.
"Rick tells me you two might have an idea what we're dealing with," Negan says, getting them onto an easier subject.
Daryl nods. "This girl didn't leave a trail or a scent or nothin'. Like she just vanished, right? This ain't a creature. It's a gate."
"We had a case a couple months back," Rick says. "A Soul Eater. It pulled me into another world. You think it's something like that?"
"Yeah. We lost our old man in the woods," Daryl says. "Me and Merle were berry-picking in the forest near where we lived. Our Pops was huntin' deer not too far from us. We could see him from where we were, but the second we turned away, he disappeared. Gone. His gun and everything. Even on foot, he couldn't have gotten that far. We would'a seen him."
"Holy shit," Negan says. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. He was a prick."
"Did he ever turn up?" asks Rick.
Daryl shakes his head. "Nah."
"So you think people are just falling ass over teakettle into these portals?" Negan says. "Or you think something's pulling them in?"
"I reckon it's a mix of both," Merle says.
"If the portals don't stay in one place," Rick says, "how do we find them?"
Daryl says, "We find the place the girl disappeared. That gate opened there for a reason."
Recalling something he read in Rick's notes, Negan says, "Granite, right? Something about boulders holding an electromagnetic charge. Maybe every once in a while, the charge gets fucky and opens one of these rifts?"
"You read my notes," Rick says with a hint of amusement.
"Don't sound so impressed." Negan stops himself before delving into flirtation.
"You've been in one of these portals before?" Daryl asks Rick. "What was it like?"
"It's the same, but it's different. Like an alternate world. Real dark and depressing. We got out by drawing two sigils: mine in the portal, and his in the real world."
Daryl rubs the scruff on his chin as if in deep thought.
By mid to late afternoon, they make it into the park with minimal resistance. Park Ranger Eric seems distrustful of Rick, but when he recognizes Daryl and Merle in the backseat, his demeanor shifts as though a switch has been flipped.
"You're the Dixon brothers? I love your show!" Eric says. "Are you going to film the search?"
"No cameras," Daryl says.
"Well, it's an honor to have you here. Let us know if you need anything." Eric waves them inside, and Negan pulls in.
"What am I, chopped liver?" Negan grumbles to Eric after the car has passed him by. "I've got songs older than you, kid. Show some respect for your elders."
Rick laughs, attempting to smother the sound with a hand, but he isn't very successful.
They meet up with Carol and Ezekiel after getting inside the park. Rick must have let them know he was coming, because they don't look surprised to see him. Carol hugs Rick and Negan in relief; Ezekiel's more of a handshake kind of guy.
"Thank you so much for volunteering to search," Carol says. "It means a lot to me."
Ezekiel nods in agreement.
"I brought in some help," Rick says, and introduces them to Daryl and Merle. "They know terrain like this. And they might know what happened to Sophia."
Carol gasps a short, hopeful intake of breath, one hand raised to her mouth. "Can you find her? Is she going to be okay?"
"I'm gonna do everything I can to find your little girl," Daryl tells her with a startling amount of reassurance. Negan didn't think the guy had it in him.
"Can you show us where Sophia disappeared?" Rick asks.
Carol agrees. Rick and Daryl haul the equipment bags out of the trunk. Inside of Rick's backpack are camping supplies, food, water, EMF meters, and small knives; Negan's got no idea what Daryl and Merle were able to sneak through airport security.
The four hunters follow Carol and Ezekiel as they lead the way. It's the final month of summer, and the trees shimmer with bright green leaves. Overhead, a clear blue sky stretches out to eternity. The uneven slopes of mountains and hills decorate the distance. Negan wonders how it's possible for this beautiful place to host such an ugly tragedy. He has fallen in step with Rick, who's hanging back as Daryl and Merle talk with Carol and Ezekiel.
"You think Carl's gonna be okay?" Rick asks in a soft voice so as not to be overheard.
They had left Carl in charge of Judith at the house, figuring the kid wouldn't make poor life choices when the consequences could directly affect his little sister. Since the aftermath of the Nachtkrapp attack, Carl has matured somehow, as though his brush with death has enlightened him. He has coped with being grounded from TV, internet, and video games by practicing guitar, and on occasion Negan has heard the familiar riffs of his own music from behind Carl's bedroom door.
"He'll be fine. I think he's expecting a reprieve for good behavior. He wouldn't blow that now," Negan says.
Rick makes a noncommittal noise. He's holding the EMF meter, watching the display for signs of activity. "Maybe not on purpose." Rick's brain seems to turn into a sputtering pot of chili when it comes to worrying about his children. Negan finds it easier to keep a clearer head, and every now and then he wonders if Rick resents him for it. But that doesn't mean Negan can't understand Rick's worries.
"We've got nosy neighbors," Negan says. "Anything goes wrong, and Maggie'll have the cops at our place quicker than I can get you off with my fingers." Rick jabs an elbow into Negan's side. "What? It's true."
"Professional," Rick reminds him.
Is it really Negan's fault that their relationship has an undercurrent of innuendo and sexual tension? His words aren't the problem; he could tape his mouth shut, and his body would still be drawn to Rick's own like a magnet, as if pulled into his orbit.
It's about a thirty-minute walk to the spot where Sophia vanished. On one side of the trail is a steep incline of rocks and trees; on the other, a sloping hill that descends into woods and tree-covered mountains. It would be, Negan thinks, quite picturesque under any other circumstances. He can see a small group of Search and Rescue workers canvassing one of the hills below.
"It was right here," Carol says with a slight tightness in her voice. "I thought maybe—maybe she ran down there." She points to the crevasse.
"But you would'a seen her," Daryl says. "She couldn't be that fast. You would'a heard her crunching through the brush and over the leaves."
Carol nods.
"And it would be impossible for her to have scaled those rocks in such a short time," Ezekiel says, pointing to the opposite side of the trail.
Rick and Negan share a look. Rocks. Granite.
Rick points the EMF meter at the wall of rock. The device begins to click and beep, gaining intensity as Rick moves closer. "Somethin' about this wall…" he mutters to himself and chews what Negan thinks is a hangnail on the edge of his thumb.
Daryl and Merle move in to get a look at the meter. "You built your own EMF?" Merle asks.
Rick nods, not taking his eyes off the gauge. "Don't leave home without it." The meter's crackle of noise heightens; Negan's always thought it sounded like some kind of unnatural insect purring and clicking its mandibles together. "A lot of activity here," Rick says. He moves slowly along the wall, scanning the rocks with the EMF meter, like he's trying to see if the reading stays the same for the entire length of the incline.
Negan follows him around the winding trail and listens for the beeps. The frequency of the meter's noises sounds consistent; they're not dropping off, and Negan wonders if the whole stretch of land is sitting on some tear in the fabric of space-time. Or there are a shit-load of faeries lurking between the boulders.
Negan's glancing around, checking over his shoulder to make sure the others haven't fallen through a portal back there. He feels a strange sensation, as if he's inside of a plane that's just depressurized. His ears pop, and his stomach lurches like he's been dropped from a great height.
Carol shrieks. Daryl and Merle holler at Negan, pointing to something in front of him. Negan snaps his gaze forward.
It's as though the air has transformed into a shimmering pool of mercury. The world oscillates before Negan's eyes, like he's staring at it through a cloud of engine exhaust, or the ripple of heat on a scorching summer's day. Rick is pulled into the disturbance, and the strange void devours him.
"Oh no you fucking don't!" Negan makes a dive for Rick, not trying to pull him back but to join him in whatever lay beyond the water-like mirage. The world he knows wavers, then it's gone completely. They hit the ground with various swears and noises of pain. The EMF meter, scattered from Rick's hand, goes silent.
Black spots dance in front of Negan's eyes, but he has no time to gauge his surroundings. An inhuman roar blasts hot against his face; in his nightmares he still hears it. Scrambling for his knife in his side holster, Negan looks up to see an enormous creature silhouetted against the moon. It looks like nothing he has seen before.
The beast is nearly twenty feet tall and sinewy, with long arms and long legs, the proportions all wrong. Each appendage is tipped with even longer talons. Like H.R. Giger's Alien, the creature has no facial features; its head is a gaping mouth filled with countless sharp teeth. In the eerie blue-green glow of the moon, Negan can see it has no skin, rather an exoskeleton of red trembling musculature. The creature also lacks genitals; it's like a Ken doll down there, which would make Negan laugh if he could make any noise at all.
As the creature reaches for Rick, Negan frees his knife from its holster and stabs the blade into the monster's hand. The creature shrieks, jerking back its hand, and the blade rips through gristle and flesh.
Negan finds his voice. "Run!" He grabs a fistful of Rick's shirt and pulls as he stumbles upright. Rick scrambles to his feet.
They run. The creature gives chase. Negan hears and feels its footsteps shaking the ground beneath him. He has no idea where they're headed; the world is hidden in shadow, and his eyes have not yet adjusted to the darkness. But he has just enough light to follow the trail. In fact, as Negan covers more ground, he realizes this is the same path he'd been on just moments ago. Except Carol, Ezekiel, and the Dixon brothers are gone, and there's a giant junkless monster chasing them.
And for some reason it seems to be snowing, yet there is no blanket of snow on the ground.
Negan slides down the embankment, skidding over an incline of gravel and rocks. "Head for the woods!" he yells to Rick, not bothering to look behind him. He assumes Rick is there. If not, well, he doesn't want to know.
The heel of Rick's boot catches on one of the rocks. Rick falls forward, losing his footing, and tumbles down the rest of the embankment. It's not very far to fall, and the backpack cushions Rick each time he bounces down the slope. Junkless covers more ground due to its size and closes the distance between it and Rick with ease.
Negan jumps down the rest of the way and crouches to help Rick. Junkless roars again, its claws slashing through the back of Negan's shirt and into his skin. Negan barely registers the pain.
Rick has his knife out, and he drives the blade up, piercing the soft, fleshy underside of Junkless' jaw. The monster screams in livid disbelief and rage, dark blood spurting when Rick jerks the knife free.
"Let's go!" Rick orders, and Negan doesn't need to be told twice. They're not even fully upright as they crash into the cover of the forest. Leaves and branches crunch like bones under their feet. Junkless roars and stomps after them. It swings its too-long arms through the trees, knocking aside branches and sending clusters of leaves spinning to the forest floor. Rick and Negan take cover behind a cluster of thick tree trunks. The canopy of leaves above them cuts their visibility down to half.
Rick slips the backpack off his shoulder and unzips the front compartment. His hands shuffles around inside, searching for something. He takes out a can of bear spray and a lighter.
Junkless continues to growl and thrash through the trees. It finds them as though led by scent, its razor-like teeth dripping with saliva and blood as it launches itself foward.
"Let's dance, Dickless!" Negan brandishes his knife. He tries to side-step as the creature charges, but its long arms catch him, as though Negan is a fish trapped in a net. Negan slams into a tree. The impact knocks him breathless and sends the knife in his hand skittering across the ground. Junkless has the front of Negan's shirt gripped in its blade-like fingers. The monster is even uglier up close, its gigantic mouth lined with shark's teeth. Its jaw stretches, like it's about to devour Negan whole, and Negan smells the fetid stench of decay on its breath.
A burst of light erupts from behind the creature. Junkless explodes in orange flames, emitting a primal scream. It drops Negan, and he slides down the tree trunk.
Negan doesn't hesitate. He grabs his knife from the forest floor and jabs it into one of Junkless' Tyrannosaurus-like feet. Another howl. The monster screeches as it retreats, its long arms swinging. Negan notices a bit of a limp in Junkless' gait. The pounding stomps of its footfalls grow quieter as it flees the forest and vanishes into the night.
"Fuck," Negan sighs and slumps against the tree. He takes a moment to catch his breath, his heartbeat bloodthunder in his ears.
Rick lowers the can of bear mace and switches off the lighter. "You alright?"
"I'll live." Negan steadies himself, trying to stop his hands from shaking as adrenaline chugs through him. "What the fuckity-fuck was that thing?"
"I don't know," Rick says. He drops the weapons into his backpack, zips it up and shoulders it.
Negan thinks he hears a tightness in Rick's tone, and he doesn't like it. He's heard that tone before when Rick scolded Carl after the Nachtkrapp incident.
"What's eatin' you?" Negan asks. "Aside from me later."
The joke doesn't soften Rick's anger. "You were s'posed to stay with them! You stay back so you can take care of Carl and Judith! That's the plan!"
"Oh, calm your succulent man-tits. Things haven't gone FUBAR yet. And I saved your ass twice in the last five minutes. You'd be working your way through that thing's digestive tract right now if I hadn't jumped in with you."
"Carl and Judith need you," Rick says. "If something happens to me—You promised!"
"Well, I fucked up! I guess I go down on you, and I go down with you."
There's no dousing Rick's fury with jokes. "How could you be so stupid?"
Rick has no business being angry at him. Rick knew exactly what he was getting into when he committed to a relationship with Negan: an emotionally needy, self-aggrandizing blowhard who hates himself and cannot bear to lose more than he already has. It was all there in writing, lyrics printed in the liner notes of his albums, the words strong and piercing through his music. When push comes to shove, he has always shown Rick the weakest parts of himself. And Rick seemed to accept Negan as-is, like he was purchased from a second-hand store with no return policy on clearance items.
That acceptance makes it worse when Negan's brain cross-connects Rick's words and tone with a memory. For a moment he's back in that studio apartment with She Who Must Not Be Named, and he's ten years younger and dumber, and he's just played a song for her. He can still hear her words in his head: "You might as well give it to Britney Spears or some other fake, manufactured pretty face with nothing new to say. Christ, Negan, you could change the world, but you're too stupid to see it."
The words explode out of Negan, puncturing the night. "Hey, go fuck yourself! You knew I was a shit husband and a shit father from the get-go. Don't blame me. I warned you. Kicking my ass to the curb would've been the smartest goddamn thing you ever did."
Rick's about to say something when a little voice calls from deeper in the forest: "Hello? Can you help my find my parents? I'm lost."
Negan feels a jolt. He stares into the black thicket of trees, trying to locate the voice.
With the same degree of gentleness he uses on Judith, Rick says, "Sophia? Is that you? Your mom and dad are real worried about you. Why don't you come on out?"
"You have to promise," the girl says. She sounds strained, as though she's been crying. "To protect me from the monster."
"Well, you're in luck, darlin'," Negan says. "Me and Rick here are monster hunters. Best in the business." He doesn't know if that's true or not, but the kid probably won't demand to see a résumé. "We just sent one packing with its tail between its legs a little while ago. Maybe you saw that?"
It's quiet for a moment, then Negan hears the rustling of leaves and branches.
Sophia steps out of the trees.