RUNNING BLIND
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"What's the W stand for?"
The stranger looked up from his tied position against the tree and flashed a tiny smirk that radiated sheer and twisted lechery. Beth's skin pricked and she gave a tight frown at the distorted smile.
"Did you hear me?" she asked, harder this time, "I said what's it stand for?"
"It stands for Wolf, sweetheart." he purred.
Just a wolf.
"Why wolf?"
"Because it's t'name of our group, that's why."
"So you're not alone."
"Am now."
She stared at him, fingers squeezing the handle of the pickaxe, and tried so intently to read his grizzly expression.
"Why are you alone now?" she asked, brows arching down and lips tightening.
"I lost the rest of the guys a couple o' miles back, runnin' from those Savior clowns."
"The Saviors? You mean Negan's Saviors?"
Surprise bloomed momentarily in his expression.
". . . You know about Negan?" he asked, his tone low and eerie, as if he were referencing some old forbidden fairytale.
She swallowed, "I've heard things."
"You ain't seen nothin', filly unless you've met him with yer own two eyes . . . 'Till you've seen the things he can do."
"What kinds of things?"
His eyes glowed.
"The worst kinds."
"So you were running from this Negan guy when you spotted that group with the baby on their way up to Virginia?"
He nodded, twitching his nose and scrunching up his face as if he had a sudden itch. The 'W' creased and crinkled with the lines of age on his forehead, and transformed into angry lines of cracked skin.
"He's very . . . territorial, and I guess he didn't like us scavenging so close to his camp. So his men chased us out."
"The Saviors?"
Another nod.
Beth looked down at the leaves by her feet and chewed her lip. What if Rick and the others had run into these people? What if they'd been chased away like stray dogs in unwelcome parts of town, and were walking in a completely different direction?
What if they weren't walking at all anymore?
"So your group—the Wolves—you're a type of cult?" she asked, "Scavengers? The carved letter on your head . . . Aren't you no different to them then?"
"Don't go comparin' small fry like us to the big boys like Negan and his men. Don't do that, my beauty."
She really wished he'd stop with the terms of endearment and the skin-crawling looks of longing.
"What would Negan and the Saviors do to that group if they ran into them?"
He burst out into hysterical laughter then, a response that alarmed Beth, and he flashed a crooked grin.
"What would happen to them? Girly . . . There would be none of them left to even run. He might spare the baby, he's funny with things like that; and offer the women a place in his sick little harem of wives. Then he'd just kill the ones that said no, an' then everyone else too."
"He sounds like an asshole."
"Asshole don't even come close to coverin' it."
". . . Where were you running to?"
"Anywhere, didn't matter, jus' somewhere away from him."
Like wolves running from their greater predator.
The Wolf's expression darkened and he sat back against the tree more comfortably, fingers twitching by his restraints.
"What's yer name?" he asked eventually.
Her brows creased even more.
"Why do you wanna know?"
"I like t'know the names of those who manage to capture me, 'cause it sure as hell don't happen often. Plus, none of 'em have ever been as pretty as you—"
"Stop."
He chuckled. "Ain't gonna tell me then?" he teased, "Oh well. Didn't expect ya to. You looked a little frigid anyways."
She felt her blood burning.
"Why don't you tell me your name?" she turned the tables on him, "It sure as hell isn't just Wolf."
"You're right, it ain't, but—"
"But let me guess . . . You're not gonna tell me just like I'm not gonna tell you mine."
"Sharp."
His eyes were filled with laughter, and it was that simple look that made Beth grip the handle of her pickaxe and stalk closer towards him.
"Back in the clearin'," he said with an eerie grin as she came closer, "When I mentioned that group we saw north . . . Somethin' sparked in ya then. Somethin' came to life. An' then you dragged me all the way back to yer camp and tied me up here . . . for what?"
"What are you tryin' to say?"
He leaned forward, eyes laughing and his teeth glowing a dull brownish yellow.
"Why are you tailing 'em?" he asked, "They're a good hundred miles up the country, headed towards a madman, and you're willin' to follow full speed ahead. So my question is . . . What'd'you want from 'em?"
"I don't want anything."
"But that's where you're wrong, girly. People these days don't just trek across the country after one specific group for nothin'. People don't do that."
"I'm not just people."
"So then why you chasin' after them?"
Beth tightened her lips.
Why?
What are we going to do when we find your friends?
What are we going to do if we don't?
"That's none of your business," she scowled, "All you have to do is point me in the right direction so that I can find 'em."
". . . Do you know 'em?" he asked, head falling to the side to rest on his shoulder.
"What if I do?"
He laughed.
"Is something funny?"
"Not hilariously . . . But they was walkin' away from here. Away from you. If you guys know each other like ya say . . . Then why aren't they turnin' around and comin' back for ya?"
Unable and unwilling to resist the urge any longer, Beth dropped the pickaxe and lifted her hands to violently tug the cloth off from around her head.
The Wolf's eyes widened briefly as the circular scar just below her hairline was exposed to view, and his jaw loosened.
She stood like that, her hand pushing her fringe and flyaway hairs out of the way to reveal the scabbed over scar, and glared profoundly whilst feeling those betraying tears pricking at her eyes.
After a while of staring, the Wolf tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes carefully.
"Looks like yer dead to them in more ways than one, girly."
"They don't know I'm trying to find them," she said, lowering her hand and letting some hairs fall over the ugly scar, "Heck, they probably don't even know I'm alive, but I'm gonna keep going. I'll keep going 'til it kills me for real this time."
"You need to re-evaluate yer life if you're thinkin' like that."
Tying the bandage back around her head clumsily, Beth picked the pickaxe back up and called for Dwight. He came wandering from his perch on the edge of the camp and stood at her side, eyeing the Wolf tied to the quizzically.
His eye was narrow as he shifted his puzzled gaze to her, but widened slightly when she handed him a knife she'd had strapped to her belt.
"Make him talk," she said finally, shocking both Dwight and the Wolf.
Dwight eyed her suspiciously, his mouth curved in a slight frown, before he cautiously accepted the knife. He gripped it and stalked closer to the Wolf, crouching down before him when he got close enough.
The Wolf laughed, gaze whizzing from Dwight back to Beth. "Ya gotta be kidding me," he laughed heartily, "Really?"
Beth's eyes held no traces of laughter.
Dwight glanced back at her over his shoulder and shot her a look.
"This is your last chance." she warned.
Last chance.
Tell me which way they went.
His eyes darkened and all laughter faded from his features. He seemed to have finally realised that she was a long way from joking. Far from it in fact.
Underestimated.
She looked at Dwight and gave a final nod.
No more chances.
"Do it."
Dwight isolated the knife at first and slammed his mere fist against the Wolf's cheek, hard.
The sound of knuckles connecting with nose cartilage and cheekbone snapped through the woods with a sickening crunch! The Wolf spat out a ball of saliva and blood and glared up into Beth's eyes.
"Prissy bitch," she spat, and Dwight hit him again.
"Best watch yer fuckin' mouth when you're in punching line with my fist," he growled, surprising Beth with the defensiveness of his words.
The Wolf spat another mouthful of blood out and grimaced.
"If ya wanted t'know so badly ya could've just asked."
"I did ask," Beth reminded him, "But all you did was run your mouth and taunt me. If you've decided you got something to say, say it."
"Or what?"
"Or you get another taste of his fist."
When he fell deadly quiet, Dwight held up the knife and pressed it against his throat, intentionally pushing not quite hard enough to pierce the flesh, but just hard enough to emphasise how serious he was.
The Wolf's eyes narrowed.
"They were headed north," he growled reluctantly, "Some of us saw 'em passin' Richmond in Virginia. Last we saw of 'em, they were being taken by those dicks behind the walls near D.C."
"Alexandria?"
The Wolf's eyes flickered at her sudden eagerness.
"That's right," he nodded, "They walked in there like kittens bein' lead into their new home. Sucks that the truth was they were walkin' like cattle into the slaughterhouse."
"Wait, wait. What do you mean? Isn't the place supposed to be a sanctuary?"
"It is s'posed to be . . . but don't you know?"
Dwight glanced back over his shoulder and gave her a puzzled look which she returned. She stared at the Wolf with furrowed brows and shook her head.
He grinned, flashing his rotten teeth.
". . . Alexandria takes people."
"What do you mean . . . takes?"
"Exactly how it sounds. I mean they have people that go out actively searchin' for people that are still alive outside their walls, flash them a couple of fancy pictures of the place and spout some stories about the wonders of their 'safe zone' . . . Then they lead 'em in through those gates without trouble, and they're never seen again."
"And what proof do you have that anything bad is going on behind those gates?" Dwight asked.
"Because when you got a place like that, with the perfect defences an' supplies . . . Why would you purposely go out lookin' for other people?"
"Maybe they wanna save them too," Beth said sharply, "Maybe they want other people to have the same chance at survival that they do . . . Maybe they believe there are still good people out there."
"Girl . . . Nobody thinks like that no more. It's all about your own survival now, at any cost. It's thinkin' like that that'll get ya killed, and that community is still up and very much standin'."
She opened her mouth to retort, but no words came out.
"We've got guys up in that area, and we ain't never seen that group of yours again after they walked in through those gates . . ." he whispered, ". . . Ever."
Her lips trembled.
"They're dea–"
"I'll get them out."
Dwight eyed her in confusion and she bit the inside of her cheek.
"That's right," she said, "I will go in there, and I'll get them out because they are not dead . . . That's not what they are."
Not all of them.
"Pretty big thing to do, that." the Wolf remarked, "If ya storm in by force and demand they give you your people, if they're even still alive, they're gonna fight back."
"Let them."
Dwight was flashing her warning eyes but she ignored him and stalked closer to the man being held captive.
She knelt down before him by Dwight's side and stared into the repulsive little man's beady eyes.
"They may have left me in the back of a car to rot," she said slowly, "But I will not do the same to them."
He didn't have anything to say to that.
Rising to a standing position, Beth stood towering above Dwight and the Wolf and tightened her mouth.
"Dwight," she called, meeting his gaze, "Tell everyone to pack up. We're leaving this place. Now."
He stood as well.
"Alright, but what about him?" he asked, gesturing to the still tied Wolf.
She eyed the Wolf for a few seconds before balling her empty fist and finally opening her mouth to speak.
"He stays right where he is."
The Wolf was outraged.
"What the fuck!?" he cried as Beth and Dwight began to walk away, leaving him thrashing tied to the tree, "Ya can't just leave me here! I told you what ya wanted to know, now let me go! Ya can't do this to me! I'll die out here!"
"It's all about your own survival now!" she yelled, throwing his own words back in his face and not even turning to face him as she just carried on walking away, "Watch out for walkers."
They left him there to rot.
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Beth could feel Dwight's eyes on her as they walked at the front of the group, steady and sharp as she strode over a fallen log. Eventually, his constant staring began to wear on her, and she shifted her gaze to him and stared back.
"What?" she asked sharply.
He shrugged and tightened the pack straps on his shoulders.
"S'nothin'," he responded, "I was just thinkin' how fuckin' scary you actually are, blondie."
Her brow creased, "What do you mean?"
"Back there with Mr. W, after what he said about Alexandria. You were ready to go to declare war on them just like that. All to get some friends you're not even sure are still alive back."
"I'm not gonna declare war, I just want them back. If I ask for them and they give them, then that's great. But if they don't . . . Then I'll just get them back a different way."
". . . You're pretty damn ruthless, y'know that?"
She shot him a look.
"You are!" he stressed, "Ya were willing to fight Negan just as easily too. You'll do anythin' to get your people back."
"Well, you're right about that last thing. I will do anything to get them back. I owe it to them for everything they've done for me."
"Even stand against two armies on yer own with no chance of victory? You didn't strike me as the violent type when I first met ya," he admitted.
"I didn't?"
"Nah. Ya seemed more . . . quiet. Not passive, but not aggressively seekin' a fight. Ya seemed like the type to fuck shit up in a discrete sorta way, where no one would suspect ya for doin' it . . . Kinda like the killer in Cluedo."
"Did you just compare me to a whodunnit murder case from a board game?"
He didn't respond, but eventually snorted quietly. She very nearly laughed because of it too. "So what am I like?" she asked, treading over a thick twig and making it snap! loudly, "If I'm not 'discreetly fucking shit up'?"
He thought about that for a while before answering.
"You're a force, Beth Greene. An honest t'god, motherfuckin' force."
Girl of smoke and fire.
Force of nature, the source of will and determination.
"Well in that case . . . May the force be with you."
He looked at her dryly and she did laugh, for just a brief second, before Morgan came jogging up to join them.
She looked away quickly like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing.
How sad that such a thing as laughter was deemed that way to her now.
"Who was that you left tied to a tree just outside the camp?" he asked, "Guy with the 'W' sketched onto his forehead."
"He said he was a part of some group called The Wolves," she answered, "He told us what he knew about Alexandria and my group."
"He saw Rick?"
"Yeah. Said they got taken by the safe zone and never came out again. He said no one ever comes out of that place once they go in."
"Do you believe him?"
She stuttered on a breath and looked down at her boots.
"I don't know. But he told me where they are and that's what matters. They went past Richmond and then Alexandria found them, so that's where we go."
"Why would they go past Richmond?" Dwight asked, "If that's where this Noah's home and family were, why wouldn't they stay there?"
". . . I think I have an idea about why they didn't do that," she said quietly.
"We'll never know for sure unless we see with our own eyes," Morgan uttered, "I wouldn't give up yet."
Her eyes blazed.
"If I'd given up, do you really think I'd be still marchin' forward?"
"The day blondie gives up on what she believes in will be the day waffles an' pop-tarts fly," Dwight muttered.
"That was weirdly specific," Morgan said, and Beth nearly smiled again.
Steadily . . . and somehow . . . it was becoming easier to do that.
Smile again.
And that was good.
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Author's Corner
Well. Leaving that Wolf there was pretty cold on Beth's part. I wonder if that'll come back and bite her in the ass later? (...)
Just wanted to say thanks so much for the usual support and reviews, and that I appreciate every single review/follow/favourite you guys give. Keep it up and I'll keep giving you chapters. I think you'll all like the next one. I'm not going to say why but I have a gut feeling that you will.
THANKS FOR READING!
