Chapter 36 Anathema

Well last episode (Season 4 Episode 6) drives me on to write because I just don't buy that he suddenly has a 'Jesus moment'. So here's the Governor at this most evil and depraved (like people like Jimmy Saville who have the power to do all the things they've always wanted to do because other people are scared of them and so cover up for them). But his actions disgust even the apathetic and complacent people of Woodbury who rise up against him. True, he has good points but the power and pain of his lost eye brings out his worst desires that he couldn't fulfil before the End of the World. He wants Daryl – the rough, hard-ass yet vulnerable redneck has this effect on lots of people in my story but he wants him the worst way. And the Governor's never forgotten what it was like to have no power or respect with people laughing at him behind his back. A place he never, ever wants to go back to.

So, here goes. Please don' t read if it offends you. It's just that I like to go a little further than most people.

I.

The Governor turned to the boy beside him. Tenderly stroked his cheek while he cringed away.

But he couldn't get away – Randy had locked the door to from the outside – he knew the routine by now when he brought his boss playmates. The Governor only had to holler for them to open it.

Of course he had a key but it was buried in a safe place. Where the boy would never find it.

Knew he was trapped.

Besides, there were trusted guards posted outside to stop him if he should escape by some miracle.

'Daryl.' He whispered with longing.

'That ain't my name, freak.'

The Governor drew back his fist and punched him in the face. Hard as he could – at least he'd held back a little with Carol,

The boy didn't make a sound. Didn't whine, didn't beg.

God, he's perfect. Looks just like him and is tough like him too.

'Tonight, you're Daryl.'

'Who's Daryl?' The prisoner couldn't help his curiosity even in his fear. But he'd never show the sick bastard that he was afraid despite the rumours he'd heard about the leader and prisoners. Knew what was going to happen – that now the sick bastard had moved onto teenagers like him – girls at first.' His tone was defiant even as he spat out the tooth along with blood.

His tormentor only smiled smugly as if at a private joke.

'Why don't you just kill me?'

'You want that, do you?' The Governor asked him in a pitying tone. 'If you want that, we can arrange it later.'

Then he added knowingly, 'Nice try, son.'

'Fuck you. I ain't ya son.'

'No – you don't seem to be anybody's son. What happened to your family?' His voice dripping with fake concern and sympathy. Inviting confidence.

Now the boy showed the emotion that he was craving. Because the Governor always found everyone's weak spots – guessed their histories, as the youth looked downcast at the bed. Grief that was still raw had risen to the surface.

Yet he still snapped back rudely. 'None of ya fuckin' business.'

The Governor slapped him round the head for that. Hard even as his erection grew at the youth's spirit. But it wasn't time for that now he thought as he forced himself to hold back with great difficulty.

First, he had to break him in. Anyway, waiting always increased the anticipation and his pleasure. The boy was just how he imagined the redneck had been with his father at his age. 'You better show me some respect.' He told him as he started to loosen his belt from his jeans – as his eyes glazed over because both of them were fully clothed despite being topless. Now he saw the fear in the boy's eyes – he didn't know what was going to happen.

He fought, he struggled even landing a weak punch on his assailant. But he just wasn't strong enough or big enough to take on a fully-grown man.

He was just a fourteen year old boy – worse – he was small and skinny for his age.

He'd been toughed up through the Apocalypse – had learnt to kill the zombies after his home was invaded and he'd lost his parents and his little brother and sister. Something had told him to go for the head.

By some miracle he'd survived and found his way to Woodbury – following the written directions on the roads.

Had expected to find a sanctuary – safety.

Instead he had found a hell. And it wasn't the last time he'd regretted leaving the relative safety outside.

ii.

A few hours later at the break of dawn, Randy and another heavy by name of Mike – half-dragged, half-carried the bruised and bleeding boy to the Infirmary on the Governor's orders. Pushed him in at the door where Emerett was working the night shift (they'd been ordered to work around the clock). Despite himself, the scientist looked at the young prisoner in shock. The Governor had allowed him to put his pants back on at least.

'Another one for the experiments?' He assumed. 'We don't usually use ones that young.'

'No.' Randy shrugged then sneered with disdain. 'He wants you to keep this one. Patch him up because he wants him again tonight.' At this the boy started to struggle. 'No...no don't make me go back there. Not to him. ' He begged, his former bluster and defiance gone as he looked from one to another in abject terror. 'Please. I'll do anything.'

'Shut up.' Mike shook him roughly and he quietened down at once. He turned back to address the scientist. 'He wants him if you get my drift...'

'I do.' Emerett snapped – disgust etched onto his face. 'Unfortunately. Kids now – is it?' He shook his head in disbelief.

'I know.' Randy agreed even though he didn't have a problem with the girls so much – a bitch between the legs was just the same no matter the age. But boys? That was just downright dirty and perverted.

'Get out.' The virologist ordered them with unhidden contempt . He despised the low-lives who had come to live with them at the Governor's call to be his henchmen. Had ruined the genteel atmosphere at Woodbury with their constant air of dark menace. 'He wants me to fix him, you better leave.

They sniggered but left without protest.

'Now.' He said softly as he turned to the prisoner – one of many he'd treated after the Governor's night time games or had experimented on. 'No one's going to hurt you here, son. I'm a scientist but I'm also trained as a medic.'

The boy was still trembling as he looked down at the ground. But he mouthed Yeah, right silently.

'Can you tell me your name, son?' Emerett was trying to be kind but it didn't come naturally to him.

Do I give him my real name? They boy wondered to himself. The Governor didn't ask me for my name.

Didn't care.

'Ryan.' He lied to be on the safe side, giving the name of his younger brother. Emerett had asked because he knew that names were useful in building trust.

'Well, Ryan. I'm going to treat you, make you better. Where are you hurt?'

Tony shrugged like he didn't care. Like he can ever make me better. Make it like it never happened. Make my family not dead.

Emerett tried again – hoping being blunt this time would work better. 'Where did he hurt you?' He asked quietly, calmly.

Now the boy looked at him in anguish.

'Everywhere.' He whispered and Emerett sighed when he realised the full horror of what Ryan was saying. This really has to stop. I can't – I won't be part of this any more. What he did to adults was bad enough but now teenagers – kids?

'He called me Daryl and made me call him Daddy why he did it...While he whipped me with the belt...and...and...' He couldn't finish, couldn't tell the other man what else the Governor had done to him.

He didn't need to.

Emerett was sickened despite himself as the boy's tough and careless demeanour crumbled. As he started to sob and he awkwardly tried to comfort him. Because he wasn't a touchy-feely person by any means. He hissed when he saw the boy's back and put a salve on the whip marks and cigar burns. After he'd given him a sedative to calm him down. 'Sick bastard' he muttered under his breath and he met Kristie's eyes on the other side of the chair. 'I didn't sign up for this.'

'No more.' He told her vehemently in a low whisper. 'No more cruel and pointless experiments that I don't believe can really work on people who came to us pleading sanctuary, no more patching up kids – for God's sake - that he's abused.'

She stared at him in shock.

'I want in in whatever you and Milton are planning.' They were whispering – mindful of prying ears.

'How...how did you know..?'

'You two should be more discreet. Your lucky his men are always high or drunk or just simply too dumb to realise what's going on.'

ii.

Jamie woke up – his vision blurry – everything seemed to be covered in a yellowish veil. He was no longer feverish but something was wrong. He could feel it and the skin on his face was itchy – he wanted to rip it off with his fingernails but his hands were still bound behind his back.

He tried to scream for help – hoped it would be the nicer doctor with the warm eyes who would come running but only a growl came out of his throat. He tried to form words but none were coming.

He started to panic then.

He was lucky – Graceson came to his pen. Stared at him in shock as he heard the feral growls and snarls coming from the prisoner's throat. Saw the skin on his face hanging off in places, already rotting.

What about the rest of him?

But incredibly, horribly the man's eyes were alive and all too human – desperately trying to tell him something.

Trying to beg him for help.

Graceson ran to fetch Emerett.

Emerett and Krystie came back – they'd put the boy to bed. He was resting from his ordeal with the Governor. All three were staring at the Biter-Man with expressions of shocked horror and pity.

'What does this mean?' Graceson asked his colleague.

'I'm not sure.'

Krystie injected the test subject with a drug to make him sleep despite his struggles and they left him there in his pen. Along with the the groans and snarls of the other Biters to keep him company. Kept his hands tied between his back of course, just in case.

Safely back in the lab they could talk without the prisoner overhearing them.

'It's just horrible.' The nurse moaned. 'He's self-aware as he turns into a Walker. As his body deteriorates. No instant brain death apparently. How could that happen?'

Emerett answered. 'I'm not sure but it looks like the vaccine partly worked. We're still waiting for the equipment so that we can process Carol's blood. She looks like the best candidate – if we let a Biter bite her – I believe that she wouldn't get infected. She appears to have natural immunity but we can't know for sure until we get that machine to analyse her blood.'

Milton came in at the moment. Panicked when he heard the virologist's suggestion about letting a Biter bite Carol.

'But we can't know for sure. Can we? And if she dies...' He asked trying to buy his friend more time.

'No of course not.' Emerett snapped back at him. 'Where's the bloody equipment, Milton?'

Milton looked uncomfortable, failed to meet the other man's eyes. 'You know I ordered it days ago...'

'Don't lie to me.' Emerett whispered, pointing to the walls, putting his finger to his lips. 'You're not very good at it.' He added in a softer tone. While Graceson and Krystie looked at him in shock.

'How...how did you know...?' Milton stammered. 'Are you going to tell him?' He trembled at the thought of how he would be punished – he'd already been cut for nothing and it was clear his former friend no longer trusted him. But for lying and betrayal? Maybe the Governor wouldn't even kill him which would be the best he could hope for.

'No, he's not.' Krystie turned to Emerett. Also whispering – knowing that the Governor had his spies everywhere.

'No.' The researcher whispered. 'You know what he's doing to kids now – I can't condone that. I did the experiments on prisoners because what's a few lives if it may save the rest of the human race?'

Graceson got to the point. 'So what's our plan? What are we going to do?'

'Someone needs to get out there and send a message to the prison group. To this Daryl the Governor is so obsessed with. We'll help them rescue Carol but we need her afterwards – she may be the last hope for a vaccine – with her consent, of course. The last hope for all of us. But I've done doing these pointless and cruel experiments on people who came to us for refuge.'

'What do we do about him?' The nurse jerked her head back to the pens. 'We can't leave him like that. He's terrified and he's suffering.'

'Let's just keep him sedated. If he suddenly dies – the Governor will get suspicious. He's already been sacrificed for science – he proves that maybe there is hope. Because I changed the formula of the vaccine slightly but he's doesn't already have the antibodies that Carol's blood appears to. That's why his body seems to be affected but his mind is still intact – his heart is still beating and his lungs breathing.' Emerett replied. 'A partial vaccine protection but of course, he is most likely to still turn eventually. Just slower than you or I would.'

'His body is alive but not for long – his body is deteriorating. Besides, keeping him alive is just inhumane.' Graceson argued.

'You didn't have a problem with the experiments until just recently.'

'No – I've always felt guilty but I thought if we could save the rest of humanity...it was worth it.'

'Don't bother me with your delayed pangs of conscience. We both experimented on unwilling prisoners. Too bad you just realised.' Emerett countered nastily.

Krystie broke up the argument by changing the subject. Fighting amongst themselves was going to get them no-where. 'What about Lucy? Do we bring her into this? I know she doesn't approve of everything we're doing.'

'Can she be trusted? I know she's been having time off because of stress lately. Seems like she can't handle the guilt any better than we can.' Emerett added bitterly.

'When I tell her what he's been doing to kids – she had a teenage brother before he was turned. She'll understand.'

'Well, bring her into the fold, so to speak.' Emerett looked at Graceson in agreement with his proposal.

'Right. Is there someone we can trust – an enemy of the Governor who can get word to the prison?'

Krystie nodded. I know someone who has a grudge against him – well, to be honest – plenty of people do now– have already turned against him.'

'Right. We need to draw up a plan to help them when they come here.' Emerett concluded the meeting and they went to bed.