Hello, guys, I'm back with another chapter and this is one I'm very excited about so I'll keep this note quick. The chapter title is "Control" by Halsey, which is absolutely perfect for this part of the story, and for how Mason, Alpha and Eugene interact. As always, super, super huge thank you for your reviews and support, you guys really are the best. I hope ya'll enjoy this one, please let me know what you think!

28. Control

Mason

The only reason she was still conscious was because Eugene and Sasha were there.

If they hadn't been she would have already closed her eyes, let the agony claim her. Her face felt swollen and hot from tears that refused to stop. Her body felt like the heaviest burden.

Her Misfits, her Misfits...

Charlie, who had endured so much and come out stronger on the others side, who had loved even fiercer than she fought, who had never given the world the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

Dray, who had been so kind to Mason even when she wasn't very lovable, who had known darkness but chosen the light, who had only ever wanted peace and flowers for his family.

Ashlee, who read books in odd places, who had been sweet and shy and concerned for everyone, who would have given anyone the clothes off her back if they needed it.

Fuck, fuck-

The Whisperers led them through the woods for what seemed like an eternity, murmuring to the walkers that traveled with them like they were soothing children. Mason glanced intermittently at Eugene and Sasha, to see how they were holding up, and they did the same. Their grief echoed Mason's. Eugene especially looked shattered. They had been his family, too, the oddballs who had taken him and Mason in and given them somewhere to belong, who had restored their hope after their internment in the Sanctuary.

Finally, they came to a break in the trees, a large brick building looming ahead. It looked sleek, as though it had gone up just before the apocalypse. Across the top, a scrawl of artfully applied paint proclaimed it to be "SoCal Solstice Brewery".

The hairs on the back of Mason's neck stood on end. Solstice.

Here is your longest night. The darkest winter Solstice.

I'm going to dissect you.

I will take everything you love.

Her nightmares. Even years ago, back in Alexandria...they'd been trying to warn her about this.

She stumbled dizzily as they were herded inside. The place was grim and dark, the windows painted over with black to keep out prying eyes. Candles and floodlights cast everything in eerie shadows. They passed people on their way down a long hall, people who looked...normal. Not crazy. But Mason supposed it was probably just because none of them were dressed in someone else's skin.

The room they were brought to was small and lined with copper basins- fermentation tanks. Mason caught a glimpse of her distorted reflection in the burnished metal. Her own dead eyes...

"Search them," Alpha ordered lazily. "I want all their shit. And this one-"

She paused in front of Eugene, who glared back at her as though he were cataloging all the ways to dismember her. She grinned.

"Be extra careful with this one. I won't have any more trickass bullshit from him."

"I thought you liked an even playing field," Eugene said. His voice was quiet- and all the more menacing for it.

Alpha just shook her head. "C'mon, Chemist, you know the saying: Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, and I'll eat your fucking throat if you try it again."

Mason's heart pounded as the Whisperers began the rough, tedious process of patting them down- cutting their zip ties but keeping them bound with chains.

They were going to find the guns. And when they found the guns-

Her mind whirled, trying to come up with a plan, or a lie, or something.

But the Whisperers had already found one of Sasha's guns. He held it aloft for Alpha to see.

"Got a pistol here."

Alpha's eyes narrowed, but before she could speak, the man from before, the one covered in walker blood, stormed through the crowd to confront her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded, and Mason had to admire the balls it took to talk to her like that. "You killed those people. You killed them- for what? You said you were gonna let them go!"

Alpha gave him an insolent smile. "Calm your tits, Nick, they were trash anyway."

Rage flickered in Mason's belly.

A muscle feathered in Nick's jaw. "You didn't have to kill them. You didn't have to kill anyone."

"Don't go all tree-hugger on me now. I told you I would do whatever I had to to get her back."

Alpha glanced at Mason as she spoke. Mason could barely stomach looking back at her, knowing what kind of person she was, knowing that Mason had convinced herself once upon a time that she was in love with such a monster, knowing that once upon a time she had felt guilt over not being able to save her...

A hand lifted the back of her shirt. She flinched as the revolver, Rick's revolver, was ripped from the small of her back, where she'd taped it.

"This is a nice piece," the Whisperer said, smirking beneath his rotten mask. Mason quivered with fury. "Say your goodbyes now, cuz this bitch is mi-"

Before she could stop herself, Mason lunged forward, cracking her head against the Whisperer's nose. He stumbled back, dropping the gun. Mason thrashed, trying in vain to reach it.

"Give it back!" she snarled.

But another Whisperer simply picked it up and handed it to Alpha, who raised an eyebrow at it and then at Mason.

"This is a pretty piece," she said. "I don't know if I'd be willing to die for it, though."

"It's mine," Mason replied. "Give it back."

The Whisperer whose nose she'd broken had recovered; his walker face was askew, lips and nose torn open, revealing his own bloodied nose beneath. He stalked toward her, bristling with rage, but Alpha stepped in front of him.

"Look at you, Windham," she said cheerfully. "She made you all kinds of beautiful."

"She broke my goddamn nose!" he thundered.

"Yes, she did. Touch her, however, and I will cut it off."

Mason didn't doubt that she would and clearly Windham didn't, either, because he yielded a step. His eyes seared into Mason's a second longer before he looked away.

Alpha waved a hand scornfully. "Go get Murph to reset it. He can have you looking just as fugly as before. Nick, take his place."

For a moment, Nick stared her down. It was a test, Mason realized. Whatever relationship those two had, Alpha was testing him.

Finally, without a word, Nick turned and reached for Mason.

She stood rigidly while he patted her down, much more gently than Windham had bothered to. His lips were thin with anger, but she thought there might have been an apology in his expression.

Alpha kept talking, but Mason was only half-paying attention, trying to suppress her bloodlust.

Nick skimmed his hand down her arm. Mason held her breath as his fingers paused over the ridge of metal on her wrist. He pulled her sleeve up to reveal the bullet bracelet she wore, blinking at it- confirming that they were real cartridges- before lifting his gaze to hers.

Mason met his stare without flinching. Alpha kept talking. She and the other Whisperers were unaware so far of Nick's discovery, but a few more seconds and someone was likely to spot it...

Nick eyed her a moment longer before pulling her sleeve back down, smoothly covering the bullets.

"That's everything," Nick said, and his lie was effortless.

"Right. Chain them up for now. I'll be back in a minute," Alpha said, motioning for Nick to follow her.

Mason watched them go as the Whisperers pushed her, Eugene and Sasha back against the fermentation tanks. It was these that the Whisperers bound them to, each of them to a tank, huddled in a neat little row on the cold cement floor.

The Whisperers kept watch armed with the confiscated weapons. Like they thought there was any way for their prisoners to escape without serious bodily harm.

Mason, Eugene and Sasha glared them down, unified by an unspoken agreement to convey through menacing silence what they intended to do to their captors.

It seemed their message was being received; several of the Whisperers began fidgeting, and several more wouldn't meet any of their gazes directly.

Mason focused on this, on the satisfaction, however small, of instilling unease in her enemies. She couldn't let herself think of anything else, not yet. She needed to be able to think, she needed to be able to plan.

She was the leader now. She couldn't afford her grief to weigh her down when there were people counting on her.

But god.

God.

All she wanted was to sink beneath its weight.

~m~

Some time later, when Alpha finally returned, Mason was utterly exhausted from holding herself together. It was a serious effort to keep her expression neutral, to not let this rawness show on her face- although she did wonder what role it was she should be playing. Meek mouse or vengeful wolf?

"Let the Reaper loose," Alpha said by way of greeting. The Whisperers hesitated, but Alpha had only to throw them a glare and they obeyed.

Mason frowned as they unchained her. She tried to read Alpha's expression and couldn't.

"Well," Alpha prodded. "Go on and stand up."

She could feel Eugene and Sasha tense beside her, but she didn't look at them. She was wary to draw any attention to them at all if she could help it. She staggered a bit as she climbed to her feet, flexing her arms, which had started going numb from being bound in one position.

For a moment, Alpha and Mason stared each other down, Mason wrestling with the urge to lunge for her throat. Even if she managed to kill her, the other Whisperers were likely to kill Mason- which would have been fine with her, except there was no way she was leaving Eugene and Sasha to face this alone.

Then Alpha pulled a gun from her belt.

It wasn't one she recognized, not one of the empties they'd surrendered, so it was likely loaded. Mason tensed, bracing herself for the shot. Behind her, a chorus of shouts and clanking chains from Eugene and Sasha.

But Alpha held the gun out to Mason.

The Whisperers jolted in surprise. One of them reached out.

"Alpha, what are you-"

"Shut up and stand by the door."

Hesitantly they did as she said. Mason watched them mistrustfully, angling herself between them and her family.

Another beat of silence passed. Alpha scowled impatiently.

"Take the gun, Reaper."

"Why?"

A trick, it was some sort of trick-

Alpha sneered. "Because Simon says."

Mason refused to move. After a moment, Alpha let out a sigh.

"You know, I'm really disappointed in you. Giving up the guns, that was really...just...such a pussy move."

"It was what you wanted," Mason replied stiffly.

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually do it. I expected a little fight out of you. You were the Scourge of the Sanctuary. What happened?"

"I don't gamble my family's lives."

"So how was it I ended up killing three of them? Four, technically."

The blood boiled in Mason's veins.

you bitch you fucking bitch i'm going to fucking kill you

Alpha grinned slyly. "You know what's really sad? They had more fight than you, and they still let themselves get eaten."

Every breath was like fire. She felt choked with it.

"Let themselves?" Mason repeated, so enraged her voice was barely a whisper.

"The blonde one- Ashlee, right? Did you hear her at the end? I've skinned rabbits less shrill than that."

Mason quivered.

I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE YOU FUCKING BITCH

Easy.

Abraham.

She's trying to get a rise out of you.

Well, she was succeeding. Alpha knew just what to say and exactly how to say it. She always had.

"I guess she's sort of lucky, though, that the walkers got her," Alpha continued. "The things I would've done to her... She was cute. Innocent-looking, you know, even with those piercings."

"Shut up."

Alpha raised an eyebrow. "Jealous, Mace? You know I always come home to you, I just appreciate a nice little pussy tease every now and then-"

"Shut. Up."

"Of course, she wasn't as pretty as that one bimbo. You know. The one from the prison. Beth."

Abruptly, Mason saw red.

She lunged, hands outstretched for the gun, ignoring the protests from Eugene and Sasha, ignoring the voices in her head. Alpha was goading her on, she knew it, she knew it, but she didn't give a shit. She wanted the bitch dead.

Instead of trying to dodge her or jerk the gun away, Alpha snatched Mason by the back of her shirt and drew her closer, like they were dance partners preparing to kiss. Her eyes were as wild as Mason felt. She thrust the gun into Mason's hand.

"Shoot me, Mason," Alpha growled. "You mad? You want me dead? Then shoot me."

Mason stumbled back, trembling with ire; her bones didn't feel strong enough to hold the weight of it but by some miracle they didn't snap. She aimed the gun. Alpha spread her arms wide, eyes glittering.

"You won't do it, Reaper," she whispered. "Not to me-"

Mason pulled the trigger.

The gun just clicked.

The breath caught in Mason's throat.

She pulled the trigger again. Again.

Empty.

Genuine shock flickered across Alpha's face, but it disappeared quickly. She strode forward, knocking the gun from Mason's grip and seizing her by the collar of her shirt.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" she hissed. "All the guns you gave us are empties. Where the fuck's the ammo, Mace? I'm guessing your people still have it. I'm guessing they're still armed...just like you three were when we searched you. Lying bitch."

Mason's heart pounded.

Her bullet bracelet. If she could-

But Alpha shoved her away before she had a chance to react, hard enough that Mason skidded across the floor on her ass.

"Well, I hope you're proud of your clever little plan," Alpha continued. "We'll be heading back to your family's abode very soon to get what's ours."

"No- no-"

Mason scrambled to her feet, her heart lurching with panic. Despite this, despite her grief and wild rage, her movements were fluid. Her blows were strong and controlled...and yet she could not get an edge on Alpha.

There was something in her, some depthless well of coals that never guttered, and it made her cruel and quick and accurate. Her fire met Mason's fire, evenly matched.

In the middle of the scuffle, Mason's eyes landed on the gun.

She didn't have time to pick it up and load it, but if she could somehow save it...

Pretending she was wholly invested in combat, she kicked her heel back against the pistol. It went skidding under one of the fermentation tanks.

This single moment of distraction cost her. Alpha was able to knock her back into the Whisperers, who were ready and waiting with the chains. Mason struggled, but in no time they had bound her again to the tank next to Eugene, who looked her over worriedly.

"What the hell were you trying to prove fighting me?" Alpha panted.

Mason glared at her, hoping Alpha wouldn't think about the gun, hoping that because it was empty, she would completely disregard it...

"I'm not trying to prove a damn thing. I tried giving you what you wanted. I tried begging. Now I'm trying to kill you."

A strange look crossed Alpha's face, one Mason couldn't read. In any case, it shifted quickly into anger and disgust, leashed by a dark smile.

"Well, tell you what, Reaper. If your people can hold their own against mine for a full twenty-four hours, I'll give you a chance to beg for them again. In the meantime, I'd suggest you reminisce on all those memories you have of playing housewife on that perfect little beach. Maybe pretend your precious sheep are still alive. I'll be back when I feel less likely to peel that pretty face of yours right off your skull."

She strode out of the room without another word, past the Whisperers, who took up their post guarding the doorway.

Slowly, Mason looked at Eugene and Sasha. Their eyes were wide with fear, sorrow, anger, but the reality of their situation kept them from speaking. With the Whisperers listening they could make no plans. They couldn't even exchange silent signals with their hands bound. All they could do was sit, so close but so many miles away, trying to lend strength through silence.

~m~

Hours passed, hours spent doing nothing else but trying to plan, trying to strategize, trying to think of way to keep her people alive. Eventually, sheer exhaustion caught up with her; she drifted off into a restless, hazy sleep in which she thought she heard voices but could not distinguish them.

She jarred awake when someone kicked her, a disinterested blow to the leg that didn't hurt so much as alarm. Her eyes fluttered open, flicking immediately to Eugene and Sasha, who the Whisperers were waking in a similar manner. Only once she had ascertained that they were okay- or at least as okay as could be managed- did she notice Alpha standing above her.

"Rise and shine, bunny," Alpha cooed. "It's time for a field trip."

"My people," Mason growled.

"Oh, I'm not taking you to see them-"

"Are they alive?"

"Jesus, I forgot how snippy you get when you first wake up. They're alive," Alpha added when Mason's expression turned feral. "Currently hunkered down in that beach house. We have them surrounded but they're making a last stand. At this point it's a stalemate, because they'll likely use up all the ammo fighting us and I fucking want it. You and your people just specialize in pissing me off."

Even through her sheer terror, Mason couldn't help feeling a spark of fierce satisfaction. But she kept her expression neutral.

"Let them go, let them leave, and I can work something out with you," she said. "They will use up all the ammo, they'll do it just to spite you, so I'd suggest thinking up another way."

Alpha grinned as one of the Whisperers lifted Mason to her feet. She couldn't feel her arms- after being bound in one awkward position for however many hours, they felt as disconnected from her body as rubber hoses.

"If you think up something that I would like, I'd be more than happy to hear it," Alpha said. "But honestly, I've accepted that the last resort will be to sweep in and slaughter everyone you love. While I'd much rather have the ammo, I'm okay with that option, too."

Mason seethed. She wished her hands were free and her arms returned to normal strength. She wished she'd had an opportunity to grab that gun.

"I would have let them live, no problem, if you'd just given the ammo to me in the first place," Alpha continued. "Now we have this whole big clusterfuck to work through and honestly, you know? I'm not really in the mood for it. I wanted to give my full attention to you and your two friends."

The Whisperers started dragging the three of them out of the room by their chains. Mason was in the lead; she kept craning her head to make sure Eugene and Sasha were still safely behind her. Her mind whirled, trying to come up with something she could give Alpha in exchange for her people.

You can't give her anything, Abraham said. She said she would return the Misfits and then she killed three of them. You can't trust a single ginger hair on that One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest head.

And Mason knew that, but...

I wish I were enough, she thought back. I wish she had only wanted me. My people would be better off anyway.

That's some complete and total elephant shit if I ever heard some.

I wish you were here.

It was the first time she'd ever confessed this to one of the voices, confessed it to them directly, and she felt small and pathetic doing so. But she did wish Abraham was there. She wished Rick was there. She wished she wasn't the one who had to be in charge now. She wished Alpha would be satisfied with using her as a punching bag and leave the rest of her family alone.

Something tweaked her ribs. It felt so real that she jumped, looking around to see who had done it. But all of the Whisperers were occupied with guiding their prisoners, and Sasha and Eugene were still bound, and Alpha was leading the pack, and-

"I am here."

The voice was no longer in her mind. Just like in the graveyard at Alexandria. Just like in the battle at the Sanctuary. It was real, or at least sounded that way, so real Mason was half-expecting the others to hear it, too.

But no one reacted. And she thought she was the only one who saw it, the extra shadow that flickered briefly next to hers and then disappeared.

"Now, you got this handled, soldier, you do," Abraham continued, from somewhere just past her shoulder. "There is nothing you can give to that bitch that she will be satisfied with. Right now, you need to lay real fuckin' low, play her little game, and wait for your chance. And when you get that chance, you're going to grab the bull by its big ol' soft and danglies, you understand me?"

Mason swallowed the sound she wanted to make, one that was half-laugh, half-sob.

Yes, sir.

When Alpha and the Whisperers led them through an exit in the back of the building, Sasha spoke up.

"Where are you talking us?" she demanded.

Mason squinted in the glare of the sunlight, looking around for any indication of what Alpha had in store for them. But she could see nothing out of the ordinary, just an empty parking lot with a pile of gravel left over from construction.

"I know this whole thing between our people is a mess, and I know how much Mason likes to stress out over shit," Alpha said. "So I figured the least I could do was take her mind off things for a bit."

A prickle of dread trickled down Mason's spine.

"So why bring these two?" she asked, in as calm a voice as she could manage. "You could have left them behind. It could have just been the two of us."

"Because I'm not a fucking idiot, Mason," Alpha sneered. "Besides, I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone. Just because I have a fun little date planned doesn't mean it can't also be educational."

She didn't explain further than that. Mason's stomach twisted. The urge to protect Eugene and Sasha, to hide them away from Alpha, nearly choked her.

"Why bring me at all? I mean, to your compound?" Sasha spoke up again. Her voice was steel and darkness. "You asked for me specifically. I need a reason. I get you wanted Mason, that's obvious, and Eugene, because he's her husband, but why me?"

Mason had been wondering this herself. As far as she knew, Alpha did not have a personal vendetta against Sasha...although there were lots of things Mason had never known about Alpha, or at least been too blind to see. Whatever the reason, Mason had no doubt Alpha had been figuring Sasha into her dark agenda for as long as she'd been making plans.

Cheerfully, Alpha replied, "Good question, Sasha, and my answer is that it's for me to know, and for you to find out whenever it suits me best."

Mason wasn't terribly surprised by this answer.

They walked for a while in silence, until they reached a district of suburbs that had obviously been upper crust turf before the Infection. The houses were all outlandishly large, more like mansions than anything else. It reminded Mason of the neighborhood where Alpha had lived, and indeed Alpha threw out her arms and spun in a circle in the middle of the street, the joyful tableau of a girl dancing in the sunshine.

"God, I love the air here," she said. "It smells like the downfall of every motherfucker I ever wanted dead."

"Yeah, I've always wanted to capture that essence in a cologne," Mason muttered.

Alpha's eyes gleamed. "You joke, but I know deep down you love that shit, too. Don't you remember how those assholes used to treat us? How they looked at you, like you were something they'd tracked in on the bottom of their shoe?"

Yes, she did, of course she did. The disdain with which Alpha's mother had regarded her, the shock and sympathy when Mrs. Stanton's friends learned her daughter was not only dating a girl but dating the dreaded riffraff- a poor girl.

But that had been so long ago, and she had found her family, her true people. It was hard to believe that the opinions of those silver-spoon shit-roaches had ever mattered to her.

"They're all dead now, so who gives a shit?" she said.

"They do," Alpha replied. "They're watching right now, turning over in hell because we're here, and there's no one left to pat them on the back for all those lavish houses with their ridiculous furniture and soulless decor. Rome wasn't built in a day, but it burned in one."

"Is that what we're doing here?" Mason asked, remembering Alpha's pyro tendencies. "We're gonna burn it all down?"

Alpha danced back to meet her, reaching out to cup Mason's face in her hand. She recoiled but Alpha just tightened her grip.

"I hope for that one day," she murmured, green eyes smoldering. "I want to burn everything with you, Reaper."

The intensity in Alpha's voice- the lust- made Mason's stomach churn sickly. She could feel Sasha tensing behind her, could feel Eugene's rage sparking like a frayed electrical wire.

"But, no," Alpha finally said, releasing her. "Today's not the day for a fire. Today belongs to the water."

Mason knew they had reached their destination when she saw the glass annex of one of the mansions, every window painted black just like the Whisperer compound. She assumed it to be some kind of gratuitously large sunroom until they were led inside and she spotted the pool, covered by a blue tarp. She was only able to see it in the darkened room by the light of the tiki torches that surrounded it at regular intervals.

Except...except three of those...

Mason choked on a ragged gasp, trembling. Behind her, she heard Eugene let out a broken, strangled sound of his own.

Three of the torches were not torches at all, but metal pikes, and on top of each one, a head had been impaled. They had to have been tediously applied, because they were all sentient, their brains still obviously intact-

And the faces...faces she recognized, though now-

Now they were walkers.

Just like in her nightmare.

Mason swallowed back vomit as Dray's eyes- or rather one, as half of his face had been partially devoured- rolled to meet hers. But there was nothing in them of what he used to be, no light, no laughter, no quiet calm.

There was none of Ashlee's sweetness left, none of Charlie's clever, iron will, as they snapped their teeth, riled by the scent of living flesh.

Tears welled in Mason's eyes, blurring their sallow faces. A sob bubbled in her chest, but she wouldn't give in to it, she wouldn't give Alpha the satisfaction-

"Take them down."

Sasha's voice was unyielding, ominous. Brimming with pain and vengeance- not just for Dray or Ashlee or Charlie, but for Mason and Eugene.

Alpha just smiled. Smug. Sly.

"What, you don't like my decoration-"

"Take them down."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that. They're necessary for today's lesson. And I really want to drive this one home."

She strode toward Mason, who was still reeling, still trying to hold herself together, and held something out to her.

A liquor bottle. Whiskey. The first thing Mason had ever tried, the first thing Alpha had coerced her into trying-

Mason blanched.

"Aw, Mason. Precious baby." Alpha pursed her lips in a pout. "I know it's hard. This will help. Take your mind off things, drown your sorrows..."

She pushed the bottle against Mason's lips, but Mason kept them pinched shut.

"C'mon. I know you're just as much an alcoholic as I am."

"Fucking stop," Eugene snarled, his voice thick with tears.

Alpha rolled her eyes. "Gag them."

The Whisperers obeyed immediately, stuffing wads of cloth into Eugene and Sasha's mouths until they choked. Mason opened her mouth to protest, and Alpha took the opportunity to pour whiskey down her throat.

Mason spluttered. It went down wrong, burning.

"Before we can go any further, I'm gonna need you drunk, Mason," Alpha said. "For old time's sake, but also to prove a point."

Mason shook her head. Whatever Alpha had planned, she knew she'd need all her wits about her.

Alpha smiled. "Drink, or I break this bottle off in your friends' throats."

Quivering, eyeing her with pure hate, Mason leaned forward and allowed Alpha to put the bottle to her lips.

She took a deep swallow, and then another, and then another. She hadn't eaten since the night before the confrontation on the beach, and the liquor settled uneasily in her empty stomach.

Her head was buzzing in no time, her limbs feeling weightless and warm. Alpha forced her to keep drinking until both Mason and the bottle were half-gone.

"There, now, see?" Alpha said, grinning as Mason swayed on her feet. "Don't you feel better?"

The room spun. Mason tried to focus her eyes on Alpha, but it took all her concentration.

"S-stop playing games," she slurred, burning with anger and humiliation. "What the- what even was the point...?"

Alpha waved a hand- a motion that Mason's eyes tried to follow. But their drunken reeling left her dizzy and nauseous, and she didn't notice until a heartbeat too late that the majority of Whisperers were dragging Eugene and Sasha away, placing Eugene at one end of the pool and Sasha at the opposite.

Dread bloomed in Mason's stomach when Eugene and Sasha's wrists and ankles were zip tied, their chains tossed aside.

It slithered a greasy line up her spine when the Whisperers began filling Eugene and Sasha's pockets with rocks.

"Stop," Mason rasped, struggling to get the words out through her drunken haze. "Whatever...whatever this is- you don't have to take it out on them. I'm right here, Alpha, take...take it out on me."

"But, Mason, that is what this is. I mean, partially."

As she spoke, the Whisperers removed the tarp with a savage flourish.

The pool was filled with walkers, who splashed and groaned in the water, spurred into movement by the removal of the canvas.

Mason veins iced over.

"No. Alpha, please-"

"Shut up, Mason. I told you I'd let you beg, but now's not the time. Have a little fucking dignity."

Eugene and Sasha were prodded right to the edge of the pool, though they resisted every step of the way. Mason jerked sluggishly against her chains, but the Whisperers held her fast.

"Just stop this!" she snarled.

"I. Fucking. Can't," Alpha hissed, her face inches from Mason's, her eyes wild. "You just don't fucking get it, do you? These people, these pussies you feel you have to protect- they are dragging you down. They're like a goddamn ball and chain, and you could be free. You could be so much more, fucking christ... You were the Reaper! But instead you chose to shackle yourself to these wastes, drunk off that lie you were selling yourself, pretending you could live some cutesy, mundane life."

Alpha drew back, signaling to the Whisperers holding Mason. They adjusted Mason's chains- preparing to release her, she realized.

"Today is all about that," Alpha continued. "Today is all about showing you how much of a burden these people really are, and how it's going to get you killed."

Then Alpha snapped her fingers, and Mason barely had time to scream or think or breathe before Eugene and Sasha were thrown into the pool.

In the same moment, the chains fell slack around her.

"Better move fast, Mace," Alpha taunted. "Even if they aren't devoured, they'll sure as shit drown."

Mason stumbled forward. But- but she couldn't just jump in without a plan- both of them on opposite ends, the whole pool writhing with the dead-

But she couldn't just stand there, either, dithering over a plan-

Half a second had passed. Fucking think! she urged herself.

Sasha... Sasha's side of the pool was less infested than Eugene's, as if- as if they'd chosen to throw him in the deadlier end. And Sasha was lighter, could move about more freely, could evade the walkers more effectively while Mason did what she needed to do.

Ignoring the guilt, ignoring the anguish of having to choose at all, Mason lurched forward and plunged into the water.

Everything was a confusion of muffled snarls and writhing shadows. At first Mason couldn't see anything but walkers- every ounce of her that wasn't focused on searching for Eugene was invested in dodging them. But finally, through the murky turbulence, she spotted him, surrounded by the dead at the bottom of the pool.

Mason dove quickly for him, but it felt as though it took an eternity, fighting to get past the walkers, fighting against the swirling water, fighting just to get her drunken limbs to move.

Finally, her fingers snagged in his shirt but the walkers followed her, converging. They grabbed at Eugene's legs, his arms, and Eugene could do little more than thrash in a vain attempt to shake them off. They grabbed at Mason, too, pulling at her hair, her clothes. She pulled herself toward Eugene, shielding his body with her own while beating at the rallying mass with her feet and fists.

Her lungs burned. The effort it took to repel the dead was hastening her pulse, decaying precious oxygen. Linking her arms through Eugene's, she kicked out, propelling herself up from the floor of the pool. There were walkers above, walkers below, walkers everywhere. And her brain was slamming haphazardly against her skull, and her stomach was churning, churning, churning, and she needed air, she needed to breathe, her lungs were bursting-

She shoved Eugene out of the water first, but a moment later she surfaced as well, and heaved a shuddering gasp. There was no time for relief, she knew. Heart thundering, she lifted him up over the lip of the pool, which took a hideous amount of effort. Because Eugene could offer very little help, and the rocks weighed him down, and the walkers were relentless; half of her time was spent merely fending them off.

But finally, she rolled him onto solid ground and, snatching a quick breath, dove back beneath the surface.

She wasted no time, making a beeline straight through the dead to Sasha's side. The water was murkier than ever, roiling with dark stains of blood, and Mason's heart constricted until she spotted Sasha. She'd been backed into a corner, and though she'd managed to hold the walkers at bay, she was rapidly losing ground.

Mason fought her way through them, tossing them to the side, pummeling them with as much force as her sloppy, waterlogged limbs could manage. One well-aimed kick had the bottom half of a walker's jaw spinning away into the dark water.

When Mason reached Sasha, she covered her body with her own, exactly as she'd done with Eugene's. Her arms looped through Sasha's, her legs bunching as she prepared to catapult herself off the floor.

Walkers latched onto her as she launched upward. Teeth snagged in her hair, eager for her skull, her neck. Fingers dug in around her waist. Gritting her teeth, she kept squirming toward the surface.

She was allowed one single breath before a new weight dragged her back under. She felt, quick distinctly, a set of teeth lock around her shoe. Trying desperately to keep herself angled between Sasha and the walkers, Mason whirled, slamming her back against the pool wall. The walker clamped around her waist, fingers digging in enough to be painful, finally loosened its grip. Another similar blow had its spine cracking. Its nails dragged at her shirt as it sunk to the bottom of the pool.

Teeth still gnawed doggedly on her shoe. Head spinning, she snapped her foot up, smashing it against the walker's nose. She was quick to take advantage of her momentary freedom, shoving Sasha again toward the surface. Walkers swarmed them like a school of piranhas and Mason thrashed in their center, holding them at bay but only by inches.

And the world was wheeling, and her lungs were screaming, it almost felt as though they were tearing seam by seam, bleeding, and-

And suddenly there was air. She gulped it in, greedy for it, even as her body worked to heave Sasha out of the pool. It took less effort than it had with Eugene, but it was still a struggle; by the time Sasha was safely out of the water, Mason felt utterly ragged. Her arms trembled as she lifted herself out of the water, kicking halfheartedly at the walkers snapping at her heels.

For a moment she crouched next to Sasha, guzzling the air and mentally inventorying her body for injuries. She knew it was a distinct possibility she'd been bitten, that she hadn't noticed in the chaos and adrenaline, but all she could think was, They're safe, they're safe, they're safe.

Alpha, standing on the other side of the pool, threw back her head and laughed.

"Fuck. Me. You put on a fucking good show, Mace. Spectacular!"

At the sound of her voice, fury lashed through Mason's veins.

Soaked and shivering, her clothes hanging from her body in heavy rumples, Mason hauled herself to her feet. She whipped her head in Alpha's direction and began to stride toward her, tripping a bit over her sodden clothes. But the world...the world was twisting and coiling like a tipsy snake, and halfway there, her rising nausea clenched a fist around her stomach.

She stumbled, very nearly collapsing as she doubled over to vomit.

"So what have we learned today, Mason- anything?" Alpha asked over her violent retching.

After a moment, Mason shuddered, wiping at her mouth. A good majority of whiskey had emptied itself from her stomach, and she felt significantly better. Still drunk, but less like a sea swell.

Slipping a bit in the water, she straightened and flung herself at Alpha, spraying droplets like a sprinkler. Alpha was ready for her, but Mason was fueled by her bloodlust; if she'd been sober, she might've had an edge over the bitch.

But abruptly, in the middle of their fight, the breath was driven from Mason. There was a stinging tug in her stomach, and the telltale warmth of blood as it soaked her shirt. Alpha's punch had been well-placed, tearing open her stitches.

Eugene was roaring like a caged animal, pulling uselessly at the chains the Whisperers had once again cinched around him.

Alpha whirled, throwing him a wild grin. It had never been more apparent how unhinged, how psychotic she was.

Eugene didn't flinch from it, however, his own face contorted with wrath.

"Take that gag out, would you guys? I wanna hear what that look means."

One of the Whisperers yanked the wad of cloth from Eugene's mouth and Eugene...straining forward, livid as a winter flame...his expression sent a chill up Mason's spine.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!"

Alpha seemed delighted.

"Oh, you wanna play, Chemist?" She motioned to her Whisperers. "Let me have him. He and I are gonna have a little powwow in the foyer."

Mason's lungs shriveled with alarm. She staggered forward, ignoring the trickle of blood down her abdomen.

"No, no, leave him-"

Three Whisperers grabbed her, one of them by her throat, effectively cutting off her pleas. She kicked her legs, trying to free herself even as she choked. But they wrapped the chains around her arms, dragging her back past Eugene, who Alpha and another set of Whisperers was wrenching away.

He snarled, trying to reach for her.

"Leave her be!"

"Well, you two are just too sweet," Alpha sneered. "Don't worry, Reaper, I'll bring him back. Maybe in pieces."

Mason let out a strangled wail, that Whisperer still clutching her throat. Her vision was already starting to fade, the absence of air burning her worn lungs.

"Get Murph and his crew over here. She'll need her stitches changed out."

Black dots swam over Mason's vision. The last thing she saw before she passed out was Alpha clutching Eugene's chains in her delicate, murderous hands, leading him out of the room.

Alpha

There was not a doubt in her mind. If Eugene got loose, if he was able to get his hands on her, he was going to kill her. She doubted very much, however, that he would be escaping, chained as he was to one of the ridiculous ornate pillars in the foyer.

She smiled. "Why are you mean-mugging right now? I really do just want to chat with you."

Eugene just stared at her, unblinking, his eyes glittering like a brutal winter sky. He might have looked pitiful, drenched as he was, if not for that chilling expression.

Alpha sat cross-legged in front of him. "Tell me about yourself, Eugene. I wanna know about the man who stole my Mace's heart."

His eyes narrowed, calculating. Admittedly, Alpha was switching gears in an attempt to give him whiplash- casual questioning after such chaos, just to get him on uneven footing, but...it surprised her that she was also genuinely curious. It occurred to her that whatever he told her, she could utilize as some kind of weapon, something at which to aim a psychological knife, but... She did truly want to know about him.

"Tell me about your family," she pressed. "What was your mom like?"

His expression didn't change as he answered, "She was a bitch."

A jolt of wicked delight. "Oh, you- I like you."

"You shouldn't," he replied. "Mason and I are going to kill you."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

He sounded so assured, like he'd seen into the fucking future...

Careful to keep the irritation from her voice, she purred, "Maybe I'd be more inclined to believe you if you both weren't prisoners of mine."

"We were prisoners in the Sanctuary as well. And we burned that bitch to the ground."

"You really think I'm as stupid as that shit-for-brains?"

"Negan was not unintelligent, he was blinded by arrogance. All things being equal, I think you and he share a lot in common."

Alpha went still. "You're walking some very thin ice, Chemist."

"You're the one who wanted to talk. I am simply indulging you."

"I want your head on a pike. I'm indulging you."

He managed a shrug, chains clinking. "Perspective, I suppose."

She'd played enough mind games to know he was trying to get under her skin.

She just wasn't expecting him to be so good at it.

She tried not to focus on this and instead on what kind of emotional baggage she might pry out of him.

"Tell me how your mother was a bitch," she said. "Mine was a Stepford wife of the highest order. She whored me out to potential suitors and then she murdered my father. Among other things."

Something dimmed a little in Eugene's eyes. "My mother killed my father, too. In a sense."

"You're shitting me."

"This isn't something to bond over."

"I don't know. Us traumatized kids gotta stick together, right?"

In her mind, unbidden, she saw Mason's face, the utter anguish when she'd seen her friends' decapitated heads. The image was so abrupt it startled her. She tried to shake it away.

Eugene's eyes flashed back to hers, sharp as knives.

"We are all traumatized kids these days. You are nothing special. You entitled piece of shit..."

"Entitled?" She laughed roughly. "None of this was handed to me."

"I'm sure it wasn't. I'm sure you took it by utilizing the same infantile mind games and overinflated sense of individuality you are attempting to employ now. Did you assume that you were privileged simply because you are ruthless enough for this world? The rest of us get along just fine with our empathy and we are far stronger than you will ever be because of it."

She pictured Mason's eyes filling with tears, that spark of vengeance they just couldn't quell-

"Sentimental sheep," Alpha hissed. "You didn't take the Sanctuary through empathy. You took it through brutality. That's the language of the world. It always has been, it's just that now everyone is either fluent or dead."

"No," Eugene said. "Mercy for the lost. Vengeance for the plunderers."

The sign that had hung over the gates to Alexandria. Alpha recognized it with disgust.

"Your bullshit slogan?"

"I didn't think it up."

"Oh, like I really-"

"Mason did." His gaze was penetrating. "That's who she is, Alpha. That is the language of the world. She speaks it better than anyone."

Something sharp twisted in her gut. Mason crying, spinning out drunkenly, racing for the pool... Alpha clenched her teeth.

"She is the Reaper. She may have forgotten it living with you gutless shits for so long, but that is who she is."

Eugene cocked his head. "Why did you give Mason the gun?"

The question brought her up short. Out of the corner of her eye, silhouettes were flickering in and out of existence. She shook her head impatiently.

"What?"

"I saw your face. You truly did not believe she would pull the trigger. But if she is the Reaper as you say, then you should have expected that. You should have counted on it. If she had meekly handed it over, bent to your will the way she used to before she saw you as you really are, then she would have been no better than the rest of us, right? Just another sheep? Your logic is conflicting."

"That's not-"

"Or- did you expect the Reaper to be your own personal weapon?"

The silhouettes were converging, whispering...

Mason diving into the water, unconcerned with her own well-being, unconcerned with anything except- except-

"I made her!" Alpha snarled, in an attempt to drown out the sound. "She is who she is because of me!"

Eugene huffed a cold, humorless laugh. "You didn't make her, Alpha. You don't have that kind of power."

Quicker than lightning, she snatched a knife from her belt and held it to his throat.

"I could kill you right now. Is that power enough for you?" The voices, the voices... "Maybe I'll give your head to Mason as an early Christmas present."

"You didn't think she'd pull the trigger because you were hoping she was still in love with you."

Her spine went rigid. Eugene's eyes gleamed.

"That's it, isn't it? You were fighting so hard to convince yourself of this truth, even though deep down you knew it to be false- you certainly weren't convinced enough to load the gun. And, yes, I fully and emphatically understand the statement you were trying to make. It was cute- an empty gun for the ones we gave you. We all see what you were going for. Very clever."

She never loved you. Not really. You tricked her into caring about you.

Her mother's voice came soft as a drifting feather, and hit her like a collapsing mountain.

"But that wasn't really the truth you were trying validate, was it?" Eugene continued. Frigid. Ruthless. "Because the truth is, she is the Reaper. It is just that the Reaper is not what you had in mind, is she? She is far better and far stronger than you intended and now you have no idea what to do, because she won't be tamed this time. She will not be a pair of teeth you can summon whenever you wish. She is not your custom-constructed attack dog, she is a wolf. Truer than your Wolves. Truer than you. And you can't stand that."

Mason diving into the water, unconcerned with anything except- except-

Her family.

She never loved you.

She never loved you.

"Shut up!"

She didn't mean to scream, didn't mean to show her hand like that. But everything was happening all at once, everything was too close and too loud, she wanted everything to shut the fuck up and burn, she wanted silence and ash.

But Eugene wasn't going to give her that. He was a bulldog, worrying her throat between his teeth.

"Now you are aware it's too late to kid yourself," he said. "You thought Mason was the key. You thought she would turn her teeth on the world and show her belly to you, but you trapped yourself in this idealization. You thought she would fix everything. You, your circumstance...the voices."

Alpha flinched. His sly tone infuriated her. His words cut her viciously.

And dancing around her- shadows, congealing into figures...

Don't kill him. Not yet. Mason needs to see it.

It was the only thing that kept her from digging her knife in. Even so, her hand trembled with the urge.

Eugene held her gaze and cocked his head. Daring her.

Slowly, teetering second by second on the edge of losing all control, she sheathed her knife. Then she seized him by the chin. Breathing tremulously. Breathing fire.

"Before all this is over," she said, "I am going to kill you. I am going to do it slowly, and you are going to beg me, and Mason is going to beg me, and you are going to linger long enough to regret every second of your worthless fucking life."

Eugene smiled coldly. "Is that so?"

"It is. No plan that that analytical brain of yours can come up with will be enough to save you. I have wanted to bleed you out for a long time, Chemist. I'm getting what I want this time."

He shrugged. "Perspective."

She slapped him, hard enough to make her hand sting, hard enough that her bones rattled. She hit him again, and again, and again, until his face was swollen and bleeding. She couldn't kill him, not yet, but she needed to purge her aggression somehow.

But he never made a sound. And his eyes never lost their insolent, predatory glitter.

And it...unnerved her.

And that just pissed her the fuck off.

God, she wanted to kill him.

But not yet. Not yet.

Eugene

He glanced up as a man and a woman trailed into the foyer, flanked by Nick and Alpha. The strangers were speaking to each other in Spanish, to which Nick would occasionally reply.

Alpha scowled at Nick. "What the fuck did I say about speaking English?"

"Hey, it takes a while to teach that shit. They're not gonna be fluent right off. Maybe you could learn a little Spanish."

Eugene perked up a bit, mind racing.

"You know, you're really pissing me off here lately," Alpha growled.

"I'm sorry," Nick said, sounding anything but. "I guess in between manufacturing drugs for you and helping you take an innocent woman away from her loved ones, I just didn't have the time to lead a language seminar."

Alpha shoved him up against the pillar next to Eugene's. "You wanna come right out and say what you wanna say, Nick? I'm all ears."

He remained silent, his face tense and unreadable. She snorted and let him go.

"That's right. You don't say shit with your ass on the line. Whenever things get a little too real, you run. Fucking pussy."

She stepped back, turning to glare at the strangers without sparing Eugene so much as a glance.

"Clean him up, then bring everyone back to the compound. I'm tired of this shit for today and I need to check on our buddies at the beach house." Alpha waved a hand in Nick's direction. "Go on and translate for them. Apparently that's all you're good for."

Once she was gone, Nick rattled off what she'd said in Spanish and the strangers set to work. Eugene held still while the two tended to his wounds.

"She really did a number on you, huh?" Nick murmured after a while.

"Nothing like what she wanted to do, I am quite positive."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

The woman huffed a sigh and said to no one in particular, "Esa perra lo está perdiendo." That bitch is losing it.

"Ella ha estado por un tiempo," the man replied. She has been for a while.

Eugene nodded. "Ella es de hecho más loca que una rata de mierda." She is indeed crazier than a shit house rat.

Nick and the strangers looked at his, brows arching. Eugene smiled a little.

"Uh, chicos, podrían darnos un minuto?" Nick said after a moment. The strangers nodded, regarding Eugene now with wary curiosity. They wandered some distance away, muttering to themselves.

Nick peered at Eugene. "Asi que hablas Espanol." So you speak Spanish.

"Sí, soy bastante fluido." Yes, I am quite fluent.

Nick grinned. "Eso la enojará aún más." That's gonna piss her off even more.

"Por muy agradable que sea, espero no revelar este hecho de inmediato. Aun así, supongo que ni siquiera puede decir cuchara en Español." Enjoyable as that will be, I am hoping not to reveal this fact right off. Still, I'm guessing she can't even say "spoon" in Spanish.

"Ni una palabra." Not a word.

"Así que...hipotéticamente podríamos analizar cualquier tema sin temor a que ella escuche." So...hypothetically we could chew the cud on any topic without fear of her eavesdropping.

Warily, Nick narrowed his eyes. "Hipotéticamente." Hypothetically.

There was a beat of tense silence, Nick and Eugene feeling each other out. But Eugene had seen the way Nick had treated Mason. He'd witnessed Nick lie to Alpha about the bullet bracelet. There likely weren't many they'd be able to trust in Alpha's domain circle, but...maybe Nick...

Eugene stared him down.

"¿Cuántos caminantes has matado?"

How many walkers have you killed?

Nick blinked, confused by the change in questioning. But he answered, "No me molesto en seguir rastro." I don't bother keeping track anymore.

Eugene nodded.

"¿Cuántas personas has matado?"

How many people have you killed?

Nick's expression darkened. He hesitated only a second, before answering, "Tres."

"¿Por qué?"

Why?

And there was not an ounce of guile, nothing but bleak honesty, when Nick replied, "Porque no había otra manera." Because there was no other way.

After a moment, Eugene's lips stretched in a grim smile.

"¿Qué le dirías a un hipotético destronamiento de la reina?"

What would you say to a hypothetical dethroning of the queen?