Chapter 36

"They wanted me! They were after me! I had to!"

Dr. Carson's screams emanated from the back of the van he was locked in. He had begged and pleaded with Daryl the whole tedious way through the town to his group, hanging on Daryl's neck as he limped and cried - he hadn't wanted to run, he hadn't want anyone else to get hurt or killed. He wanted to be safe, to live, and the only way he could have those two things were to run. So he did.

"Shut up!" One Savior yelled, kicking the back door of the van. The cries slackened, but they didn't diminish; pathetic whimpering pleas taking their place.

"We're going to meet Gavin at Hilltop. They were on their way here when I radioed in, so he isn't too pleased with the wasted time. Let's get a move on."

David directed everyone and got into the driver seat of the van carting Emmett Carson, and Daryl gave its locked back door one last apologetic look before getting into his own transport.

"You ready to drive?" Alan asked him from the driver's seat.

"Naw," Daryl shook his head.

He had too much on his mind to concentrate on dodging debris and the occasional wandering walker on the road. He was a little unnerved, too, and the shiver that ran up his spine at the doctor's whispered revelation hadn't ceased. It was an incessant pulse over his back that prickled his skin and left him restless inside. He bobbed his knee to get rid of the anxious energy that balled in his chest like a malicious tumor, but it didn't do much to help.

"Whadya think's gonna happen to him?" Daryl asked.

Shawn glanced back at him from the passenger seat. "Your guess is as good as mine, man. And I think we can all take a pretty fucking good one."

"The guy is scared shitless," Alan pondered. He was trying to figure out what it all meant, just like Daryl was.

"That don't mean a damn thing when it comes to Negan," Shawn replied. "Actually, I think it butters his fucking bread more than anything."

"Hmm," Alan responded, but the conversation died there.

The dead, Daryl mused. What did that mean? Carson hadn't really been able to explain himself when Daryl pressed him further. The older man had broken down sobbing uncontrollably as the hunter drug him outside, and the only phrases he'd uttered thereafter were ones of mercy. Whatever he'd seen, real or imagined, had messed him up, but Daryl thought it was more than a coincidence that both the doctor and a complete stranger could hallucinate the same things. But what truth could there be to it? The dead were somehow alive, sentient, and conversing with the living? It severed the last lingering connection he had left of the world he and countless others had lost after the turn.

Guilt weighed him down as they drove over the abandoned roads to Hilltop. He didn't want to be a part of what Negan was and it was painful to bear; to know he'd taken his name and masked himself with it to do what he was told. Daryl had to remind himself that even if they hadn't found Dr. Carson, he probably would've died anyway and that this was in some form a clemency. He was in very bad shape, couldn't walk on his own, and was clearly going through a psychosis, but it somehow made Daryl feel worse to know that he was the one who was walking the suffering man to his executioner. Negan wouldn't show him kindness, no matter what he was going through.

Daryl pushed the gnawing thoughts from his mind, letting nervous excitement suppress his guilt temporarily as he thought about possibly seeing Jesus again. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to speak to the scout alone, but he was going to try. The hunter hadn't forgotten his mission to gather as much intel as he could, and even though Hilltop was working with Alexandria already, he was sure there was some information they could exchange to help their cause. The hard part was finding a way to do it.

Although Daryl knew the distance between the small town and their destination was nearly an hour away due to the inconvenience of the apocalypse, they arrived sooner than he thought. The roads had remained clear thanks to their trek through earlier, so only half an hour had passed by before they reached Hilltop's opened gates.

"Where's the man of the hour?" Gavin asked as the group of them emerged from their vehicles.

Daryl scanned the yard for Jesus and found him sitting on the porch steps, his eyes boring into him. He gave him a slight nod as the van doors were yanked open to reveal a shrunken Dr. Emmett Carson.

"There he is!" Gavin smiled, his eyes empty. "Bring him out."

The doctor struggled feebly as he was drug out of the van and in full view of everyone present. They shoved him down on his knees, and he cried out, clutching his bad leg. Daryl stiffened his posture, readying himself for the violence he felt lurking around the corner.

"Well, how do ya do, doc?" Gaving asked the trembling man. "You look worse for fucking wear. What the hell happened out there?"

"Please," Emmett whimpered. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't beg me. I'm not the one you need to be apologizing to. I just wanted to give you a look over and let your brother see ya one last time before we take you home." Gaving eyed Emmett and shook his head in disgust. He looked at the lot who brought the doctor in. "Who found him?"

"The hick did," David said, flicking his thumb over his shoulder at Daryl.

"Well, I'll be damned," Gavin looked at him. "You really are a great fucking tracker. I'll admit, I'm surprised."

Daryl gritted his teeth, but stayed silent and traded a look with Jesus that said he wasn't pleased with himself. Jesus's face didn't change and he sat as motionless as before, his thoughts unreadable.

"Well, I guess we better load this pony up and get him back to the stable. Wave goodbye to your brother, Emmett, you won't be seeing him for a while - if ever."

"Please, Gavin, let me check his wounds and get him some water before you guys leave. We'll make you all dinner," Harland begged, looking around to see if anyone else would agree or add anything else to his offerings.

"That sounds very nice, but we've got a drive ahead of us and it's beginning to get late." The fake smile crept up his cheeks again. "Boys, get our haul for the week. Might as well while we're here."

The Saviors set about their task while Harlan looked at his older brother dejectedly, not knowing how to help him. He took a step forward to hug his brother for what would probably be the very last time, but Gavin's obstructing hand stopped him.

"You know, there is one thing you can do for us before we leave," Gavin said to him and looked at Emmett. "Since you're already fucked up…"

Gavin spun to Harlan, landing a solid fist across his jaw. Harlan fell to the ground, black spots blurring his vision as he clutched grass in his fists to steady himself. Before he could get back up, he felt a series of blows pummeling into him and he fell on his stomach to the ground, unable to move.

Daryl watched in pity as Harlan was beaten in front of his community, his brother a weeping, regretful mess.

"This is what you get when you break Negan's rules!" Gavin addressed the people of Hilltop. "Take a nice long look, remember it, and let it be the last fucking lesson you'll ever need."

Harlan was spitting out blood now and Jared flipped the younger doctor onto his back, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to yank him half up off of the ground. He began to hit the doctor repeatedly in the face until a woman started to scream and some Hilltop men rushed forward, pleading for him to stop but were quickly blocked and beaten themselves. Daryl had to do something.

"No," Alan grabbed Daryl's arms as he started toward Jared. "Don't."

"He's gonna kill him," Daryl reasoned, ripping his arm out of Alan's grasp.

"And you'll be next if you fucking do anything," Alan took hold of the back of Daryl's shirt, tugging him back.

"That's enough!" Gavin hollered, and Jared let an unconscious Harlan fall to the ground with a thud.

"Bitch," Jared grumbled, giving Harlan one last kick.

"Okay, Jared," Gavin said. He turned to the rest of his men. "We all set?"

"Ready to go, sir," David answered.

"Wonderful." Gavin walked slowly up to Gregory. "Thanks for being honest with us. You can keep your head…for now."

"No, no!" Emmett cried as two men dragged him back into the van, and Daryl tried hard to swallow down the anger. He searched for Jesus again, but found him gone from his spot, gone from the burning crowd that stared back at him.

I'm not one of 'em, Daryl wanted to shout but he turned away instead and got into the truck.

The ride was just as Negan and Simon promised: rough and bumpy. I was sure I'd have a few bruises on my legs and hips, but I managed to avoid becoming airborne by the bigger impacts. I suspected Simon hit the majority of them on purpose, and I felt a sense of exultation when a basket of supplies did go flying out the side and landed under the tires of the vehicle behind us. The truck slowed then and magically the ride became smoother, too. It was nearly a miracle.

I was beginning to wonder how long it would take us to reach Somerset as I nestled in between my bags and a few of others', finally able to sit somewhat agreeably after being slung around the better part of the ride. The truck slowing to turn had me looking around and as I gazed through the back windshield and up to the front, I saw we were winding down a densely wooded road with a black wrought iron fence ahead of us, the gate ornamented with a large, golden S.

As we pulled up, I noticed that the fence had been reinforced by sharpened logs, similar to that of Hilltops, but they were much smaller and fit to the open spaces between the iron rods. The fence itself was surely strong on its own if not defendable in its original state. The wood, however, insured more security and gave the perimeter a quality of privacy; no living dead lurking around if there was nothing to see, hear, or eat.

The gates opened automatically, Simon not having to stop or slow down; like they knew we were coming and when to expect us. I pondered that; wondered if there was some sort of tripping mechanism, but that didn't seem right. Anyone could get in if their gates ran on sensors. I scanned the top of the fence on the outside and inside as we pulled through. No one was guarding it and that felt infinitely more atypical to me.

I shifted to sit forward on my knees and placed my hands on the edge of the open rear window. I wanted to ask what this place was, too, but decided against it after considering the last answer I got. The fact that I was also riding in the back of the truck and not in the front was enough of an indication that the two men I rode with were not happy with me, so I kept my mouth shut and used my eyes instead.

The first buildings we came up to were small cabins lined in a row that led up to one larger building. It was a resort of some kind, seemingly one of the high-end with everything being uniform and expensively made. Whoever had initially found this place had definitely hit the apocalypse jackpot. What better way to spend your last days than in luxury with, as a sign with illustrated arrows pointed out, a spa, sauna, and indoor pool? Where the fuck do I sign up?

"Is this whole place still functioning?" I leaned my head in through the window, silent treatment be damned. I wanted some answers.

"Just about," Simon quirked an eyebrow at me. "You wanna marinate your tender loins after bouncing in my ride for the past twenty minutes?"

"Wouldn't hurt," I suggested, ignoring the innuendo. I wanted a break. I wanted to relax and feel something other than misery for once. I figured it would be a long shot to say anything, but there wasn't any harm in trying…hopefully.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me?" Negan spoke, but continued to sit facing forward. My gaze shifted over the resort grounds, trying to see what he was talking about but he glanced over his shoulder at me, his facial expression not amused. I sat back away from the window. I'd pushed too far. "Simon, stop the truck."

"Yes, sir," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice.

I looked between him and Negan as the latter pushed open his door and jumped out. He slammed it and stood by the bed of the truck, signaling me to get down with a glare. I moved over to him slowly, my heartbeat starting to pick up. I didn't think the idea would've offended him so much, and that was mainly because I was mostly joking when I said it. I thought my ride in the back of the truck had been the extent of my punishment. I would surely feel it in the morning, my back and legs were stiff already, but it was foolish of me to think it would stop there.

I landed beside him, and he took my arm roughly, dragging me after him down a darkening trail.

"I was kidding," I tried to reason, tree limbs hitting my face.

"So am I," Negan said, and tugged on my arm. I stumbled after him and took that as he didn't believe me. "Honestly, you could fucking make jokes or beg me all damn day for what you wanted and it wouldn't change a thing. Fuck, you could get down on your knees, suck my cock, cradle the balls, work the fucking shaft like a goddamn pro and I wouldn't buckle. This isn't about some off-handed wish you made, this is about you using my girl against me and how you're gonna pay for it."

"I didn't use her against you! I pointed her at you!" I wracked my brain to find logic in what was happening. "I was upset!"

Negan yanked me to the side, pushing me against a tree. He face was inches from mine as he glowered down at me through the fading light.

"Do you think I really need you to make excuses? I understand why you did it. It's the fucking fact that you did do it that pisses me the fuck off. I made a joke, too." Negan raised his eyebrows in a mocking smile. "Did you let me get away with it?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Negan stopped me with a hand over my mouth.

"I don't need to fucking hear it. I saw the way you were looking at me and how you held her in your hands. You looked at me the same goddamn way the first night I met you. The exact same fucking way your cunt of a man-bitch leader looked at me. I'm telling you right fucking here and now that I won't tolerate shit. It's quite fucking provoking that I've got to speak the same fucking words to you over and over and fucking over!"

I flinched as he yelled at me. I didn't know what to do, so I when I opened my eyes again I kept them cast down and concentrated on my breathing.

"I want you to learn your place, Everly, because I fucking like you, but I'm slowly losing any semblance of goddamn patience with you."

He removed his hand from my mouth and leaned in against the tree, bringing his face closer to mine, intimidating me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and met his eyes again. It would be better if I just got this over with.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

He watched me for a moment, the cooling air coupled with Negan's intense stare making me shiver. He pushed off the tree and took a step back, giving me room to breathe. He smiled.

"Run."

"It's okay, they're gone. You can come out now," Rick called as he walked behind the mansion.

Slowly, Michonne and the others came from under the trailer, Rick grabbing their hands to help them out.

"Jesus, Maggie went to get Tara and Eugene in the cellar. Could ya check on 'em?" Rick asked.

Jesus nodded and set off to the cellar doors.

"Oh, God. I hope they didn't go down there," Michonne remarked.

"They're fine. I was watching the front yard the entire time they were here. They would've dragged them out if they'd found them," Rick soothed, hugging her to him and kissing her forehead.

"Jesus Christ on a bicycle, they took their time," Maggie groaned as she, Tara, Eugene, and Jesus rejoined the rest of them. She rubbed her belly and stretched her back.

"Yeah, they also beat the shit out of Carson. And they found Emmett," Rick informed her and let Michonne go. Maggie's eyes went wide.

"They didn't..?" She started to ask, but couldn't finish.

"He's alive, or so I think. They did him in pretty good."

"Dammit," Maggie cursed and bit her thumb.

"We should skedaddle now," Eugene said anxiously. "We can convene at a more appropriate time when we don't risk the chance of getting our asses handed to us."

"There's always the chance of us getting caught, Eugene," Rosita mumbled smartly.

"It's now or never," Rick said, shaking his head. "Everyone watched them beat the ever-living hell out of one of their own. For doing absolutely nothing! If you want to ask people to fight and get them to join us in this, now is the time to do it when everything is still fresh in their minds."

"He's right," Jesus agreed, looking at Maggie. "We do it together, we give them a plan, show them how we can win, they'll jump in."

"What plan? Win how?" Maggie asked, holding out her hands. "We don't have anything."

"Oh, we will," Tara blurted. "We're going to get those guns from Oceanside. I'll make sure of it."

"And King Ezekiel will aide us. I can convince him," Jesus seemed sure.

"We can't go around making false promises," Maggie reasoned. Rick sighed.

"And we won't. This is going to happen."

"Okay," Maggie nodded. "I'll have your back, but I'm going to let you lead this one."

"Get everyone together for a town meetin'."

Rick took in a deep breath and studied all the people who were depending on him. He didn't want to let them down nor did he want to gamble with their lives either. He had to be sure that they all knew what they were getting into, and he wanted to convince them this was their best option as well. It was their time. They weren't going to stay stuck in the mud on their knees any longer. They were going to win. He was going to make sure of it.

Edited by lolasskicker. Sorry this chapter is short. I had a busy week and will be out of town with family for a while. Hopefully next weeks will be longer and better.

Thank you to my guest reviewers! I particularly like the one who called out 'Origins of Negan'. I decided to go back and have a look to check if maybe I was the one who actually missed something. My reaction is as follows...

Me: Oh, wow, the video might be a fake? Well, that's possible, but it's seemed fairly genuine. Let me just watch the video again, maybe actually read the whole description this time because if this is fake and I shared it with hundreds of people I'm gonna be really disappointed in mysel-SON OF A BITCH!

Yep, it's a big ol' fake. Here's the youtube description at the bottom after it shamelessly plugs itself as a "sneak peek" and "see how Negan began in the season 8 premier on October 22, 9/8c" or some shit: "What if it played out like this? Altering the comic storyline. Who knows, but this envisioning is cool. Word play is great. Excellent fanmade material that would actually work."

The key words any idiot (me) with two functioning eyes should note here are "EXCELLENT FAN MADE MATERIAL"..."FAN MADE"... "Fan made" as in InAHeartbeat23 is a fucking moron whose attention span lasts 2 goddamn seconds and she doesn't read for SHIT.

Anyway, sorry if that was disappointing. I'm ashamed of myself, and I apologize. I'll keep my fangirl comments to myself from now on. :'/ - The face I'm making as shame is eating me alive right now.

Also, thank you Blue Moon! Your review was so kind! It made me feel less like a jackass, haha. :)