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The townspeople are seated in the courtyard while Rick speaks about the upcoming decision they must make. Everyone is informed of Derrick's actions and Jameson is asked to give her witness testimony.
"I was patrolling the area. I heard a scuffle and a cry. When I arrived in the gardens I witnessed Derrick on top of the victim trying to sexually assault the victim. I pulled him off and subdued him until the others arrived." She explains flatly.
"By subdued you mean stabbed right?" A woman in a yellow sweater say haughtily. Jameson turns and looks at the woman before responding. "Yes I stabbed him while he was strangling me. I felt it was an appropriate response to attempted murder."
The women sniffed her nose loudly before turning away. Jameson cocks an eyebrow at Rick silently asking is she is done. He gives her a brief nod and went back to discussing the only option he saw in the situation.
"When we lost Reg and were invaded by walkers we discussed and decided on the necessary consequences for offenses against the town and its people. The consensus was death for severe offenses. We can't banish people who are a threat to the community. It leaves a loose end that may come back and destroy what we have to protect. This man attempted to sexually assault a young girl and strangle Jameson. Monsters like that had no place in the old world and even less so in the new world. We have more at risk, we have greater costs. Derrick must be put down to keep our families safe."
Everyone starts speaking at once making Rick raise a hand to calm the crowd. "One at a time please," he drawls his hands resting on his hips. Jameson sighs and tilts her head back to rest on the brick wall she leans against. Daryl bumps her shoulder and smirks down at her. She rolls her eyes and stands on her tiptoes, whispering, "Shoulda taken care of it that night."
Daryl lips twitch while nodding before kissing her temple. They watch the others argue about the fairness of the sentence, the method of execution and who will do it. Rick replies, "I'll do it. One shot to the head."
"It sounds like this comes easy to you." a man says angrily. Rick nods and crosses his arms, "The decision is easy, to protect what's mine. My family. This town. Getting it done isn't always easy though. Some of ya haven't been out there. The decisions ya make get people killed. I don't take any chances anymore. We can't take any more chances. This man… this rapist will not stay here and he will not go on to do this to others."
"Sounds like its already decided." The man hisses. Rick nods his head and replies, "It is decided but that doesn't mean I don't want your input. I want y'all to learn from this experience. I want y'all to be able to make these decisions. If ya aren't exposed to this type of situation y'all never learn."
The crowd quiets down but some are still shaking their heads in disgust. Jonesy stands up and says, "Look I've known Derrick for awhile now. We travelled together. I'm not saying what he did was ok… by any stretch of the imagination is what he did ok or forgivable but… he's saved my life before. He… he wasn't like this, wouldn't do this… I just…. Can't he get a second chance?"
Rick sighs and scrubs his face. Everyone is holding their breath waiting for his reply. The constable paces in front of them a moment and says, "Look Jonesy… I recognize that you know Derrick better than I do. Ya lived with him, ya travelled the road with him. He may not have done this type of thing before but he's done it now."
"But could it have been a mistake? Maybe he didn't realize, maybe he was confused?' he grasps at straws.
Jameson steps forward and says, "Jonesy… she was crying, he hit her… held her down. When I found them he was…" she shakes her head at the images of the large man holding down Sam, "he knew what he was doin' was wrong and when I caught him he threatened me. He attacked me because I caught him. The girl has bruises on her face, on her wrists from being held down. It wasn't a mistake or a misunderstanding. He knew she didn't want to. I'm sorry Jonesy."
Jonesy sighs and sits down heavily, his head in his hands. Jameson feels sympathy for the man. Even though Derrick turned out to be a terrible person Jonesy is still losing a friend. Someone he thought he knew and could trust. It isn't his fault the monster didn't reveal his true self to him.
The group continues to talk it over. Rick repeating himself several times trying to get the others to understand it isn't being done in vengeance. That it is the way of the world now. They have so much to risk, so much to lose by allowing threats to live amongst them.
Jameson elbows Daryl and ticks her chin towards the exit. He looks to Rick and tilts his head signally their departure. Rick gives him a nod of acknowledgment. The pair leaves and walks down the street towards the gates.
"What do you think?" Jameson asks while looking up at Daryl, her long bangs hanging in her eyes. Daryl smirks and pushes the stray locks behind her ear. "I think ya need a hair cut darlin'." He states before answering, "They gotta learn. Rick's right. Still shoulda done it the other night though."
Jameson smiles sadly and agrees, "Yeah. Kind wish my aim had been better."
The execution of Derrick is being done beyond the walls. After much debate a public execution is nixed. Some feel it is necessary for the others in town to see it, to know what the consequences look like. After a day of discussion though Rick finally decides to keep the event a private affair. Everyone knew what is happening, they know what the consequences are and Rick doesn't want the event to become a sideshow. If he kills the guy in the middle of the street some townspeople could revolt, some may try to stop it. It could become more of a disruption than needed.
Rick, Jack and Michonne walk Derrick out the exterior walls. His hands are bound while Rick and Jack grip him by the arms. They gag him because he won't stop yelling and fear he will bring walkers into the area. Rick doesn't struggle with the decision to execute the man but the process of doing it left much to be desired. The four get to the area a grave is dug. They chose to bury him but to do it beyond the walls. Rick would've just burned him with the rest of the monsters they kill but the townspeople are clutching to the old world traditions. He caves for the minor detail.
Rick and Jack get him on his knees next to the grave as Michonne watches their backs. She knows the action is needed but doesn't want to watch it. She's seen too much death for a lifetime. If there is anyway to avoid it in the future she will.
"Derrick you've been sentenced to death for the attempted rape of Samantha and the attempted murder of Jameson. Got any last words?" Rick asks, not pulling the gag down. Derrick is screaming 'FUCK YOU!' behind the cotton cloth. Rick cocks an eyebrow at him and replies, "Nothin' ok. See ya on the other side."
Rick draws his large revolver, the cool metal barrel flush against Derrick's sweaty skin. He pulls the hammer back and while keeping direct eye contact with the kneeling man, Rick squeezes the trigger. The sound rings out into the woods surrounding them, birds erupt from the trees.
"Should've used a silenced gun man," Jack grumbles while sliding the man body into the grave. Rick nods and says, "Probably I just have an attachment to this gun."
Jack gives him an incredulous look and shakes his head, "You're killin' all the walkers that show up while I bury this fucker. Still fuckin' mad I brought this piece of shit in. Never had any idea he was like this."
"Don' worry about it Jack. This world fucks people up. May not have been like this before." Rick responds as he helps shovel the dirt into the shallow grave.
"Still. Pisses me off." Jack mutters his large arms shoveling the dirt in quickly. He isn't looking to deal with a herd while burying someone who doesn't deserve to be buried. The men work fast and in thirty minutes the body is buried. The trio moves towards town slowly. Stumbling upon a few walkers, Michonne slices through their bodies efficiently. Jack feels like they are being watched as they pass an abandoned home. He elbows Rick lightly and whispers, "Got a feelin'. Eyes somewhere."
Rick perks up and begins glancing around slowly, his eyes tracing the forest lines, studying the shadows. Michonne glances back and juts her chin to the house coming up. The homes garage door is hanging crooked, the panels askew and bent. The white painted chipped and dirty, flaking off onto the ground. Bright red paint graces the gaping metal sheets. A giant circle divided into parts. Triangles and crosses are strategically placed in its parts. The group stares for a moment before scanning their surroundings.
"Come on." Rick states moving toward the structure to search for signs of others. The symbols are similar to the ones Jameson sketched up for him. The group they encountered and escaped from is now in the area of the safe zone.
Sliding into the home's front door they find dead walkers and empty food cans. There are signs of a small campfire in a metal trashcan and human waste in the bathrooms tub.
"Fuck," Jack mutters as he backs out of the small room. "These them?"
Rick nods and moves them into the garage before back outside. "Let's check the other structures, then head back and plan."
They move quickly through the two homes nearby and then head back to town. Once they arrive Rick speaks to Daryl and Jameson about the signs found. Security is stepped up and a plan organized to search the area more thoroughly. Jameson is on edge all night, her lip firmly chewed between her teeth. The monsters who massacred the whole town they passed through are nearby. They are going to need to find them and kill them in order to keep everyone safe. Groups like them can't be allowed to survive. They are a threat to all humanity, whatever there is left of it anyways.
Jameson knocks on Rick's office door to speak with him about the scouting mission in the morning. She hears shuffling and a muffled 'One minute.'. Jameson raises her eyebrows in confusion but leans against the wall waiting. Michonne opens the door looking flustered while Rick is sitting at his desk smoothing out his shirt. Jameson bites her lip and coughs over a laugh. Michonne steps out of the room and brushes past but Jameson stops her, "Might wanna flip your shirt right side out."
Michonne's eyes widen slightly as she looks down to see it isn't actually on wrong. She glares at Jameson who responds with a giant grin. "Asshole," Michonne mutters before stomping away.
Jameson chuckles while looking back at Rick. He cupping his mouth hiding his grin but when Michonne's gone he laughs quietly. Jameson slides into the room and closes the door.
"Soooooooooo bossman. Finally grew a pair huh?" she remarks sitting down and propping her boots up on the corner of his desk. Rick rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Fuck off."
Jameson laughs and lets her feet fall heavily, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "Its good Rick. Seriously really happy for you two."
Rick smiles while looking at his lap his hand drumming on the desktop. "Jus' been awhile and I got no fuckin clue what I'm doin'."
Jameson bites her lip containing a grin. The man is always so sure of himself and what he is doing. Seeing him like some unsure teenager is amusing but Jameson decides to advise and not tease mercilessly, at least for now.
"All you gotta do is be with each other. Talk to her, listenin' to her. Everythin' will fall into place if you do those things. You both know so much about each other already, know how to communicate, work together. Now you get to enjoy the fun stuff." She explains ending with a grin.
Rick chuckles and leans his elbows on the desk, his chin resting on his palm. "Ya always been this smart?"
"I have my good days." She smiles and adds, "I think I've been learning as I go, lucky for you I've stumbled through the hard parts for you."
Rick barks out a laugh and sits up, crossing his arms. "Thanks James."
She nods and bites her lip again but this time slightly embarrassed at the gratitude. Rick sighs and scrubs his face before asking, "Ok so were you just lookin' for trouble or did ya have somethin' to talk about?"
Jameson laughs again and replies, "Yeah I wanted to talk about the scouting trip. I know we want enough people to go but I'm afraid we are leaving the town under staffed with trained personnel."
Rick cups his mouth, rubbing his chin while he thinks about her statement. They were sending quite a few people out because of the fear of being over powered by numbers while out.
"You want to go with a stealth approach?" he asks leaning forward again. Jameson leans forward also and nods, "I think a group of maybe four. Quiet folk, light on their feet. Daryl, Jack, Michonne and me. We go out, scout all structures. Look for any signs of the living. Get a feel for the neighborhood."
Rick nods and rubs jaw, a nervous tick he has while thinking. "You sure you'll have enough man power if ya get caught up in their shit?"
Jameson nods but adds, "Yes. I mean there's always the chance we go out and find out they have fifty head out there but I have a feeling that it's a scouting party. They had a good set up out there. They wouldn't have moved their whole group this far away without a plan and this is the first sign we've seen of them. They also wouldn't leave the town under staffed. So it makes more sense that it's a scouting party looking for us. We go out quiet like, take the party out. No word gets back to them."
Rick smirks at her and shakes his head, "Fuck Jameson. You sure you weren't military?"
She laughs and crosses her arms, "I would've been if I wasn't a felon." Rick laughs quietly and bites his lip. Nodding he says, "Al'right. I'll trust your judgement. Y'four, I want ya to be very prepared for anythin'. I want ya gone no longer than two days at a time. You come back with news, don't leave us hangin'."
Jameson nods, "We won't. The small group will let us move fast also. All four of us are used to runnin'. It'll be fine."
Rick stands up, stretching and says, "Ok now get outta here. I'd like to get back to what I was doin'."
Jameson smirks and walks into the front room. "See ya tomorrow Rick. Happy for ya both." He rolls his eyes but looks thankful for the words. "Have a nice night James."
"So guess who's fuckin'?" Jameson says her head lying on Daryl's bare chest. He cocks and eyebrow and looks down at his naked wife. "Who?" he asks gravelly.
She smiles and said, "Rick and Michonne." Daryl snorts and scoffs, " "bout fuckin' time, shit."
Jameson laughs tucking her face against his warm skin, her fingers drawing patterns on his chest. "Yeah. He was all kinds confused."
Daryl huffs out an amused sound and kisses her forehead, "Ya give 'im advice Dr Ruth?"
Giggling Jameson smiles at him, her eyes bright. "Of course." He tightens his arms around his wife, nuzzling into her hair, "Whatcha tell 'im?"
"He said he didn't know what he was doing. I told him all he had to do was be with her, talk to her, listen to her and it'd work out. That they were already partners, now they got to enjoy themselves."
Daryl nods his chin against her head and kisses her. "Good advice darlin'."
"Eh. Just said he got the advantage of having us stumble through this shit before him." Jameson says with a smile. Daryl snorts and squeezes her harder, "Thanks a lot darlin'."
"What? It's true. We had our moments. We got through it and now he'll benefit." She explains and kisses his chest. Laughing gruffly Daryl pushes hair behind her ear, his warm calloused fingers brushing lightly over her ear. Jameson tilts her head and kisses his jaw, "Everything worked out for us."
"Damn right darlin'." He rasps his hands stroking her back, "Best thing t'ever happen to a redneck asshole like me."
Jameson shakes her head and kissing him lightly, "You say those words like their bad."
Daryl chuckles and asks, "So you don't think bein' a redneck asshole is bad?"
His wife shakes her head and sits up on her elbow, her body raised above his."Nah. Both of those traits kept you and yours alive. You knew how to survive before the world ended and even more after. Nothin' about you is bad Daryl. Well maybe your mood swings.."
Daryl cuts her off by tickling her relentlessly. She squirms and giggles like a loon until he gives her mercy and holds her close, his face tucked into her soft neck. "Don' deserve ya Jameson."
"You deserve more than you know and way more than you have." She tells him seriously, slightly out of breath from laughing. Jameson smooths her hand over his scarred back, the rippled skin gliding under her warm palm. Daryl hasn't even thought about being self-conscious of his scars in so long that he's almost forgotten them. Humming at her hand Daryl pulls his face back from her neck and rests his head on the pillow. His eyes dancing across her face while she looks back, lip firmly tucked between her teeth. Jameson still feels self-conscious when his piercing blues study her.
"Love ya darlin'. Don' have words for how much." He drawls, his voice gravelly and soft. She leans forward, her lips gently kiss and teasing his. "The things you say to me, Daryl. God." She breathes out, her forehead resting against his. "Love you."
Jameson, Daryl, Jack and Michonne leave at dawn to scout the nearby areas. They keep the talking down to a minimum, all four of them having worked together frequently can communicate with minimal words. They begin at the house with the spray painted sign and investigate it thoroughly. Daryl begins leading them on a trail of the possible graffiti artists. A half hour into the trail the tracks disappear to a clearing with obvious tires marks. The group follows those tire tracks onto a road disappearing onto the pavement. With an educated guess Daryl leads them south through the woods, parallel to the road. Jameson stays to Daryl's right and keeps her eyes forward and to the side. She begins to smell the signs of the group a few minutes after travelling beside the road. Looking over at Daryl she sees him nod, acknowledging his own observation of it. Glancing back Jameson signals to the others who also nod.
They travel for ten more minutes before they start to stumble upon the bodies and a small campsite that is torn apart. Severed limbs and dark blood cover the forest floor. Daryl crouches and moves through the blood splattered tents, crossbow poised and ready. Jameson watches his broad back, wings stretched over his shoulders. Smiling slightly at the welcome sight she follows his lead. Each tent shows signs of gore. The insides covered in congealed blood and torn clothing. Jameson glances at the limbs they pass noticing they have been severed not chewed or torn off. Humans are responsible for this slaughter. All the supplies have been taken and some body parts are missing. Heads mostly.
The four move out of the area and find a spot to regroup. Crouching by a large rock cluster they speak low and quickly.
"Humans?" Jacks whispers.
"Yeah, limbs were cut not torn or chewed." Jameson says while sitting on her haunches, her arms resting on her knees. Daryl nods and chews on his thumb, spitting out a piece of shorn skin, his nervous tick in full swing. "Missing some heads to."
Michonne grunts in disgust and leans and elbow on her knee, the other pressed into the forest floor. "Ok, keep going south?"
Daryl grunts and wipes his hands on his thighs, "Yeah. Le's go. Find shelter near dusk."
The group find a small gas station to hole up in for the evening. Daryl makes sure there are no recent tracks in the area before they settle in. His teeth are set on edge from the previous finds of the day. The slaughtered campsite, signs of brutal atrocities. He won't be resting easy until they take this group out.
"Takin' first watch." He tells the others while settling into a dark shadow by the window. His spot is completely hidden from the outdoors but supplies him with a perfect view of the area surrounding them.
Jameson rests in a spot near him, her knees drawn up to her chest, her face lying atop them. She watches him worry his lip while fiddling with his bow. His whole body is tense and she knows exactly how he feels. She is in the same boat and Jameson is pretty positive the others feel it too. They however have the advantage of having not seen those slaughtered towns. The campsite was bad but not nearly as bad as the sights both Daryl and Jameson saw. Only they witnessed the true sadists that are now near them in the dark. Every time Jameson closes her eyes she pictures the children walkers hanging above the courthouse doors. Except instead of the nameless children its Carl, Sam and the other children of Alexandria. It gives her chills and makes her nauseous. Sleep won't be coming anytime soon for Jameson.
Daryl glances at her and raises an eyebrow. Jameson just shakes her head against her knees. He knows instantly that she's saying she won't be sleeping. That she can't sleep. He bites his cheek and pats the spot next to him. Smiling softly she scoots over to sit with him, her shoulder pressed against his.
"Not tired?" he rasps his voice rough from nonuse. Jameson shakes her head and whispers, "Won't sleep til I know what were facin'. All I see is that town. Those kids." Daryl bites his thumb, making it bleed. He won't have any thumbs left after this trip. Jameson pulls his hand away and holds it. Daryl sighs heavily, "Me too."
They sit quietly as the night draws on. The outside almost pitch black except for the sliver of a moon. It is reflecting off the clouds causing the area to illuminate a little bit more. Jameson watches a lone walker shuffle down the street. It's torn clothing hanging limply off its jutting bones. One arm is pulled out of socket, thumping against its side after every staggered step. Jameson thinks about what the person once did, who they were and how they died. Most of the time she views the undead as just things. Objects. Other times, quiet times, she thinks about the bleakness of it. The idea of someone wandering the earth with no real destination. A thing only motivated to eat.
She sighs quietly before turning her head to look away from the sad sight. Daryl's arm slides around her, pulling her into his warm side. Jameson tucks her face into Daryl's shoulder and breathes in his familiar scent. Pines and leather. Gun oil and sweat. Soon she's tired as she listens to his steady heartbeat, her body breathing in unison with his.
"G'night darlin'." Daryl says huskily, his chest vibrating deeply. Jameson nods and kisses his neck in reply.
Daryl and Jack kneel by the corner of a long stretching strip mall. Jameson and Michonne are across the parking lot in the woods waiting for the signal to cross. A large group of walkers interrupts their trek and now they are waiting out their passing. Jameson pulls out her binoculars and scans the group of dead. A few are missing arms and a couple have shorn hands. Another is wrapped in barbwire.
"I think this group has stumbled into 'em." Jameson whispers. Michonne cocks an eyebrow in question while watching the men across the long stretch of cracked pavement.
"Cut limbs and barbwire tied around 'em." She states as she stuffs her binoculars away. "Looks like it was tied up and got away."
Daryl signals them to cross and provides them cover fire as they do. Jameson saddles up next to him and explains what she saw while he chews on his lip.
"Think we should follow their path, see where they came from?" she asks while crouching next to him. Daryl rubs his lip and nods, "Yeah. Good idear."
She smirks and elbows him, "Don't be so surprised."
Michonne chuckles quietly and whispers, "Lead the way Ms. Know it All."
Moving along the large structure they take glances into the busted up building. It is ransacked probably a dozen times over. Nothing but empty racks and dead walkers fill the hollowed out shells. Their feet crunch broken glass as they avoid dead bodies and drifting garbage. Finding the tracks of the long since passed herd they move toward their source.
Jameson walks next to Jack in the back as Daryl weaves through the trees with Michonne. He's showing her some tracking tips because no matter how long others have been traveling the woods, no one knows more than Daryl.
"Think we'll find 'em?" Jack whispers while watching their sides.
"I hope not. I hope we never see these fuckers again," Jameson mutters glancing over their shoulders. Jack huffs and says, "I wanna tak 'em out. Don't need them out here."
"I want 'em to just disappear, we don't need to lose anyone, can't risk losin' anyone." She replies, stopping as Daryl signals them to lower. He holds up his hand to gesture them to stay while they check out a small clearing. Jameson clenches her teeth as the two go out of sight. Focusing on her surroundings Jameson watches for any movement. After a couple moments Daryl signals them to join him.
The small clearing was recently used as a camp. There is a small campfire and impressions in the earth were five bodies slept. In the extinguished fire are blackened tin cans and a few animal bones.
The large gray rock in the clearing has a red symbol painted on it. The red dripping down the rough texture, pooling on the packed dirt floor. Jameson chews her lip bloody as she stares at it. "Fuck," she mumbles under her breath.
"Yeah," Daryl whispers before ticking his chin to the woods, "Le's follow for another hour then head back. Rick wants us home by dark tonight."
The trail of walkers weaves into the thick woods, shuffling footprints and broken branches pointing the way quite easily. Soon it leads the group to a small subdivision. Its broken make shift gate pushed inwards by a large truck. The sides of the vehicle smeared with blood, a large welded metal set of spikes on the front. Jameson grinds her teeth as she recognizes the type of modifications. Daryl cuts his eyes to her before moving them into the small neighborhood. They search the houses and begin to find more signs of human depravity. Each yard has human heads stuck on pikes. A few are still opening and closing their mouths. Scatterings of walker heads in front of houses like lawn ornaments.
"Fuck," Jack grunts at the sight and the smell. He pulls his t-shirt over his nose to block out the scent and the flies. Jameson yanks up her ever present bandana and follows Daryl's' lead into the first home. The walls have been spray painted with circles and symbols. Soon they find nonsensical words. Phrases that only make sense to the madmen in the group. More bodies and body parts are found inside. Some are arrange as if doing everyday things like watching TV or sitting at the dining table. Their bodies all missing heads or limbs. Michonne dry heaves at one especially gruesome scene in the third house. Daryl grunts at the disgusting acts before deciding they need to move on.
"Getting' late." He remarks gravelly, his voice deep and stressed. Jameson nods and ticks her head toward home. "Let's go. We need to regroup."
They've been walking for an hour when they run into another group of walkers. This group looking newer but just as damaged. Jameson uses her machete to cleave a few corpses in the head. She sees Daryl moving between his bow and his large knife. Michonne glides through the woods, the silver sword in her hand shining brightly as it drops body after body. Jack's large frame slams the butt of his rifle into brittle bones, black blood splattering his arms and chest. The group works well together and clears the area of at least thirty undead in the matter of minutes. Jack smiles widely as he stomps the last one to death. Jameson shakes her head at his goofy grin.
"You're fucked up brother," she remarks as she steps over the crushed corpse.
"Needed to let off some steam," he replies, following her lead through the trees.
As they approach the outskirts surrounding Alexandria Daryl holds up his fist causing the rest to stop and kneel. His eyes are calculating and his ears intently listening. He thought he heard voices. Whispers even.
Jameson watches him from behind. His shoulders are tense and his head cocked to the side. She can tell he is hearing something or sensing something. Goosebumps raise on her forearms as she catches a slight scattering of noises. Daryl's eyes cut to hers and she knows he heard it also. He holds up five fingers telling them he's heard or seen five people. Daryl signals them to split up and flank the people from the side. Jameson joins him as they stealthily move into the dense trees. As they come to a large boulder Daryl kneels and cuts his eyes to Jameson. She eases up next to him and sees the group sitting in a tiny clearing. There are four men and one woman. They are filthy, scarred and road worn. They carry brutal looking blades similar to machetes but larger, obviously hand forged. Jameson sees Jack and Michonne on the opposite side hidden from the other group. Daryl uses one of his birdcalls to signal Jack and Michonne. All four slid into the clearing, circling the group easily. A couple stand making moves for their guns but pause as they see the weapons aimed at them. Jameson and Jack are using large caliber rifles while Michonne has her sword drawn and raised behind two men.
"Hands up," Daryl drawls his bow aimed at the largest of the men. "UP!"
"Calm down," the largest man says, standing while lifting his hands. Daryl keeps his bow trained on him while his eyes jump to all of the others. Jameson is watching the woman who seems less controlled than the others. Her hands are twitching despite being raised and Jameson knows she is going to draw.
"Don't try it." Jameson says her feet shift to get a better view of the woman's hands. She sneers at Jameson, baring her teeth. Jameson notices her teeth have been filed into points. Wrinkling her nose in distaste she listens to Daryl speak while watching the groups every move.
"Y'all line up. Come on." He approaches while backing the group into a line against a group trees. "Hands up high,"
Jack is motioning for them to spread out further to keep them from blocking each other's movements.
"What do you want?" the large man asks his hands up but his body relaxed. Daryl gets the impression that he doesn't fear much, that he has been in tighter situations than this.
"Drop your weapons in front ya." Daryl says, ignoring the mans question. The air is thick with tension as no one makes a move to follow Daryl's instructions. After a few stressful moments the others begin dropping their blades and handguns. The woman refuses to follow suit.
"Drop 'em bitch," Daryl growls without moving his aim at the largest guy. Jameson raise her rifle and holds her aim at the woman's forehead. She isn't going to wait much longer. Jameson knows they should keep a couple for interrogation but she is pretty sure the woman is expendable. Her jumpiness and aggression means she won't work with them. She isn't the type to talk.
"Get your bitch to drop her weapons or we're droppin her." Daryl tells him.
"Drop them Bea." He tells her while nodding his chin to the ground. The feral looking woman shakes her head, her dark dreadlocks hitting her face as she flexes her fists. Apparently giving in Bea moves her hands slowly to her blade dropping the heavy piece to the ground. As she pulls the gun out of the back of her pants she lowers her body to place it on the ground. A split second later the barrel begins to tilt up at Jameson making her fire instantly. The woman's head cracks open, spraying the man next her with gore.
The groups erupt, yelling and aggressive posturing. Daryl stomps closer and presses his bow to the forehead of the apparent leader of the group.
"She pulled. She knew it was gonna git 'er killed." Daryl growls pressing the weapon harder into the mans head causing him to back down.
"Now line up." He snarls while jutting his chin to Jack , "Search 'em."
Daryl motions with his head for Jameson to follow Jack and watch closely. She observes each person's movements as Jack approaches to search them. Once cleared of others weapons they stand before each other. Daryl asks the man at the end of his crossbow, "Y'leadin 'em?"
The guy sneers at him but doesn't speak. Daryl nods stiffly and asks, "Ya like cutting folk up huh? Cuttin up kids?"
The guy laughs darkly and shrugs a shoulder, "Don't know what you're talking about."
Daryl's keeps his face stoic and nods his head to Jack again, "Tie 'em up."
Pulling out a handful of zipties Jack begins binding their arms together. As he gets to the last one the man lurches forward at Michonne. The flash of her blade and the ring of it cutting through air are followed by a spray of blood. It coats the forest floor as the man's body falls apart. The leader growls loudly at the sight, "I'm going to kill all of you."
"Try it fucker, ya wanna end up like your boyfriend?" Daryl sneers back, his arms flexed ready to fire his bolt into the mans forehead. Once tied up Jack gets them on their knees.
"Now, why ya here?" Daryl asks his large frame pacing slightly in front of them, as he looks them over. They're definitely road worn, clothing torn and dirty. Jameson ticks her chin to the last man in line, his hands and shirt sleeves are splattered with red paint. Daryl nods and juts his chin to him, "Ya like art? Ya know paintin'?"
The guy smiles slowly and nods, "Yeah man. I wanna paint you a picture. Maybe your girlfriend too."
Daryl nods thoughtfully, "Oh yeah? How 'bout ya tell me 'bout these paintin's. Huh?"
The guy laughs loudly, "Can't tell you somethin' you won't understand, man."
The leader growls and glares at the chatty man. The look causes the loud mouth to audibly snap his jaws shut. Jameson watches the interaction and decides the large man is the priority. He's the most dangerous because of his size but it is also obvious he controls the others. It means he would probably know more about the rest of the group, their strategies, supplies and numbers.
Jameson tilts her head toward the two bodies silently asking Daryl if she should search them for information. He nods while keeping his eyes on the three remaining hostages. Jameson slides her rifle on her back while dragging the woman's body away from the others. The leader growls at her but she ignores his anger. Searching through her pockets she finds a map and other survival gear, matches, flashlight and pocketknife. Unfolding the map she looks over it and finds symbols and other codes drawn on the map surface. Cities are circled and highlighted. Jameson nods to Daryl while shoving the map into her bag.
After searching their bags and the other dead body Jameson finds some clues as to who they are and where they've been. Soon the light begins to fade and Daryl gets them marching toward the safe zone. They never planned for the possibility of bringing back hostages but he figures they will speak to Rick when they arrive. The items found on them will help decisions on the next steps. If they can get even more inside information they could possibly take down the other group with less bloodshed. One can hope can't they?
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