A Soul for a Soul

We stopped to retrieve letters, updates, on our way to the Sanctuary. My grandfather used to say hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. Judging by the look on Daryl's face the worst was upon us.

"Kingdom's gone."

Those two words made the earth shift under my feet like an earthquake.

"Carol?"

He glanced up at my tone, eyes filled with sympathy. "Alive." I exhaled harshly, shoulders sagging in relief. "Her, Ezekiel, and Jerry are the only ones left."

I tried to remember how many people they had with them, 20, 30, more? Whatever the number, it was a devastating loss.

"What about Hilltop?"

"They got prisoners."

"Prisoners?" I don't remember prisoners being a part of the plan.

"Jesus wouldn't let Morgan kill 'em." Paul. I liked the guy, I really did, but the next time I saw him I might have to punch him in his perfect, white teeth. "She's gonna use 'em as leverage."

The irony wasn't lost on me. Just this morning I delivered a heartfelt monologue on leverage and the dangers of misuse. Now here we were with prisoners of war we were going to exchange like currency or execute if needed. Apparently everybody was planning for the worst.

"Ya got a price on your head."

That peaked my interest. "Really? How much?"

Daryl ground his teeth together, crumpling the paper up and shoving it into his pocket. "He wants ya alive."

"That's it?" I crossed my arms over my chest, disgruntled at Negan's lack of...lack of...lack of something. "That's just insulting."

"If it makes ya feel better he wants Rick, Maggie, and Ezekiel too, but he don't much care if they're breathin'."

It did make me feel a little better. I wasn't going through all the trouble to piss in his Wheaties just to have my name lumped in with all the other riff-raff.

"The King, The Widow, Rick and...My Spitfire." The use of the possessive pronoun set him off. I was more worried for Rick than myself. He didn't even get a nickname which was just downright laziness on Negan's part.

"Ya look like 10-miles of bad road lil' sister."

I spun around, furrowing my brow as my brother-in-law walked out of the woods with his girlfriend in tow.

"I'm assuming that's bad."

He shook his head, eyes landing on his brother. "What's got Darlina's panties in a bunch."

I pointed a warning finger in his face. "What's rule number one?"

"No talk 'bout undergarments," he huffed with an eye roll, making his girlfriend giggle.

"If y'all are done yappin', we got a war to win," Daryl snapped, walking away.

Merle put his hand on his hip, doing his best "cop eyebrow" impersonation. His cop eyebrows was way more judgmental than Rick's which was a feat in and of itself.

"What makes you think I had anything to do with that?" "That" being Daryl's current mood.

"Ain't nobody that can wind that boys watch like ya." Wait, what? I didn't wear a watch. Neither did Daryl. Merle snorted, amusement dancing in his familiar blue eyes. "Firecracker..."

"I jumped out a window." He didn't move, waiting expectedly. Maybe he already knew that. Maybe he knew there was more. Maybe he was just an asshole. "I killed the driver and the passenger, crashed the truck, only found one gun which was damaged beyond repair, I'm on Negan's hit list, and I stole the last can of ABCs and 123s from the pantry."

I exhaled harshly, feeling somewhat lighter after my "confession". Maybe Gabby was right, I needed to let it out every once in a while. Amen.

"Stealin' food is fucked up."

I threw my hands in the air. "Of all the things..."

"Where's the other gun?" Francine asked.

"Carol, Ezekiel, and Jerry are the only ones who made it," I answered, letting my hands fall to my side.

Merle handled the news an entire community was massacred like he handled everything else, with a deep breath and slight shoulder shrug.

"Lost a few back yonder." I held my breath. "Eric was one of 'em."

My legs shook, eyes slamming shut. "Aaron?"

"Alive, but..."

But devastated, destroyed, missing the other half of his heart.

"Yeah," I muttered quietly.

"Come on, gotta make sure that sumbitch is dead."

We knew from the spotters that The Saviors who survived our ambush retreated to The Sanctuary. Our bombs had rattled their confidence and drawn in walkers which effectively cut off their escape, but it hadn't penetrated their stout defenses. Most of the walls at The Sanctuary were solid concrete reinforced with steel. The one that wasn't was constantly guarded, by the living and the dead, meaning we couldn't get close enough to plant a bomb.

Glancing behind me at the stormy face of my husband I bit my lip. He wanted to kill everyone in The Sanctuary, women, children, people who were doing nothing more than trying to survive, people who were just like us.

Climbing on the back of the bike I slowly pulled myself forward until my front was pressed against his back. His breathing hitched when my arms encircled his waist, his large, calloused hand covering mine, his thumb stroking the back of my hand.

"I don't want to lose you," I admitted, resting my forehead on his back.

"I ain't goin' nowhere Red."

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, squeezing him tighter. "There's more than one way to die."

What was the point of this war if there was nothing left of us after? I wasn't sure you could fight a war honorably. If there was a way to kill another human being, and not lose a part of yourself in the process, I'd yet to find it. I knew with absolute certainty that if Daryl continued down this path he'd never forgive himself. It would change him, haunt him, forever.

We hid the vehicles a half-mile away from The Sanctuary, continuing the rest of the way on foot. I heard the low growl of walkers long before I saw them, and couldn't stop my smile. We may not have succeeded in annihilating The Sanctuary like we planned, but it was far less hospitable now.

"Give us the rundown," I said, taking a pair of binoculars the spotter handed me.

"A group of Saviors fought their way inside a half-hour ago."

I glanced at the woman, trying to remember her name. Linda?

"What 'bout Negan?" Daryl questioned as I handed him the binoculars.

Lisa...her name was Lisa...maybe.

"He was with them. We got off a couple of shots, took out a few, but he got away. He's still in there." She hung her head, clearly disappointed.

No...her name was Laura...I think.

"It's a'ight Amanda. Did the best ya could."

I turned to my husband, mouth hanging open. He simply smirked in return like he'd been reading my mind the entire time, the fucking Vulcan.

"Why would they come back here?" Francine mused, shifting uncomfortably at Merle's side. "It's surrounded by walkers. Their trapped. It's hopeless."

She saw a compound on the verge of being overrun. I saw an opportunity wasted. The fact their walls were holding meant they had a chance.

"They're trying to regroup, plan, strategize their next steps," I explained, "Their weapons, provisions, vehicles, all their infrastructure is here. They never expected an attack like this so they were unprepared. They won't make the same mistake again."

We'd done the exact same thing when we lost our home. Our first failed attempt was at the Greene farm then the prison. We were hoping to avoid a similar fate at Alexandria, but this was far from over so who knew how it would end? I may not know the answer, but I knew if you were lucky enough to find a secure place with walls you didn't let it go because of a few, hundred, walkers.

Here's to hoping they were as successful at taking back their home as we were. So...not at all.

"That's a hell of a lotta hopin'," Merle mused, rocking back on his heels.

"Hope is greater than fear."

"Ya get that off a bumper sticker?"

I smiled at him. "Fortune cookie actually."

In truth, it was a lesson from Hershel. My heart squeezed painfully thinking of the man who was like a father to us all.

"Nice."

"I thought so."

"It's a tad cheesy." We rounded on the newcomer, weapons drawn. Deadpool merely grinned or scowled less hard. "Good to see you too."

She looked like shit, the bruises on her face still an ugly shade of purple that made me clench my fist in anger. Apocalypse Barbie looked no better, a white bandage peeking out from under her sweaty tank top. Tara looked just like she had every day since Denise died, terrible.

"What the hell ya doin' here?" Daryl wasn't excited to see them, and I couldn't blame him. They weren't here to simply shoot the shit.

"I need to see it," Deadpool replied, chin raised defiantly, not the least bit phased by the powder keg that was Daryl Dixon.

"We need to see it." Apocalypse Barbie crossed her arms over her chest, daring anyone to disagree with her.

Instead of arguing I handed her the binoculars. "Look away."

I knew how it felt to be left behind while the group put their ass on the line. Their need to see it, to make sure it was really happening, was something I understood.

"We ran across some Saviors on the way here." I bit my lip, watching Tara carefully. "They were trying to rig a truck with speakers so they could lure the walkers away."

"Were?" Francine wasn't the only one to catch the past tense reference.

"We took care of it." Tara's reply was swift and final. "What do we do now?"

"Ya still got the truck?"

Daryl may have tabled blowing The Saviors back to the stone age with dynamite, but he still wanted them dead and was willing to take major risks to see the plan realized. Tara hadn't even heard his idea and was already onboard, bouncing on the balls of her feet, eyes wide with anticipation. Apocalypse Barbie didn't look sold, but then again the woman hadn't gotten excited about much of anything since Ariel died.

Negan had taken something from all of us.

He robbed Tara of more than her girlfriend. He stole her future.

Apocalypse Barbie and Ariel may have parted ways before his untimely demise, but she loved him. You didn't turn that off just because someone told you they were "flushing the turd".

I may be alive, but I'd left a part of myself at The Sanctuary. My time there had...changed me, and my husband was out to settle the score.

A soul for a soul.

That was the way of the world.

Negan had robbed us of souls, and those of us left behind were demanding payment.

"What's your plan?" Tara asked.

Ram the stolen truck into The Sanctuary. That was his grand plan. It wasn't the worst I'd ever heard, but that was only because Rick had taken first place in that particular race with his original idea. I'd jumped out of a second story window and onto a moving truck, and that was just counting the last few hours. Trust me when I tell you if I thought the plan was crap. It was crap.

With this kind of decision making it was a miracle we'd survived this long. It was like every horrible strategist left in the world banded together to form a group. I had no actual words to describe this shit-show masquerading as a "plan". I did however have a metric shit-ton of hand gestures.

"I will provide cover from the buildings adjacent to the compound."

I twirled around, weapon aimed at Mr. Miyagi's head, heart thumping wildly in my chest. He stood there, dressed for laser tag with a stoic look and his stupid stick. I ground my teeth together in agitation. Motherfuckers better stop sneaking up on me or I was going to start putting a cap in their ass.

Merle narrowed his eyes, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "Seems risky."

If Merle thought a plan was horrible you were officially off the reservation. He once thought it was a good idea to ground up dead walkers and use them as biofuel to power cars since gas was in short supply. His rationale, and I quote, "Banana peels worked in Back to the Future. Why the hell wouldn't walker guts do the trick?"

Yeah, we were gonna die.

The lively discussion quickly turned into an outright argument, one side vehemently advocating for action to finish off The Saviors and the other adamant the risk was too great. My heart sunk a little listening to Mr. Miyagi try to persuade Deadpool and Apocalypse Barbie that attacking was our best option. This from a man who refused to kill The Wolves even when they held him at gunpoint.

Negan may not have touched him directly, but his influence reached him nonetheless.

A soul for a soul.

I turned away from the group, trying to tune out their rising voices. I could see both sides. I wanted this done and over with probably more than anyone, but Daryl's plan was half haphazardly thrown together, at best. It also didn't guarantee the desired outcome.

"It's risky." It was somewhat surprising to hear Apocalypse Barbie be the voice of dissention. Sasha dying had changed her outlook dramatically. "They could see the truck coming."

"Why don't we just wait it out like we planned?" Deadpool asked, not afraid to stand against a redneck.

Daryl scoffed, but it was Tara who replied. "The truck with the speakers would have lured those walkers away." She pointed at The Sanctuary where the dead continued to claw at the walls. "It almost did go bad. Something else could."

"Even if it don't, we ain't got the Kingdom fighters no more," Daryl added, "I mean, if The Saviors wanna put up a fight, we don't got the numbers to make 'em surrender."

I sighed, walking further away from the escalating debate. The truly difficult aspect was neither party was inherently wrong. Deadpool and Apocalypse Barbie were correct, it was risky to act rather than simply wait. On the flip side, Tara and Daryl were also spot on. Waiting could seal our doom just as easily as our victory. No one had a crystal ball. We didn't know how this was going to turn out. That was the problem.

Something on the roof of The Sanctuary caught my eye, a swath of rainbow colors easy to pick out against the backdrop of muted grays and blacks of the buildings. Pulling my rifle off my back I tucked the weapon into my shoulder, peering through the scope to get a better look.

It took a few seconds for my brain to understand what I was seeing. The plane was actually more of a drone, clearly homemade, put together using parts from various other objects. The wings were brightly colored, probably made from discarded curtains or sheets. The body was largely wooden with a singular plastic propeller on the front that was spinning furiously in an effort to keep it airborne.

My eyes strayed Billy Ray, a remote control in his hand and determined look on his face. The music blasting from the drone took a moment to sink in. The betrayal of the fake scientist we'd once considered family making my gut burn with loathing. The walkers loitering outside The Sanctuary collectively tilted their heads skyward, drawn to the noise emanating from the makeshift drone.

The music was working to draw their attention. Already they were turning, the herd shuffling away from the compound like a dead flock of birds. Grinding my teeth together I aimed at the drone, finger curling around the trigger. I wanted nothing more than to put a bullet between Billy Ray's eyes, but the drone was the bigger problem.

Before I could get the shot off gunfire erupted from the windows of The Sanctuary. The bullets struck the ground at my feet and the trees beside me, sending dirt and wood shards flying into the air.

"Red!"

Quickly ducking behind a tree I squatted, trying to make my body as small as possible in order to fit behind the small trunk. The rough bark dug into my back and I winced, bullets slamming into the ground mere inches from my boots. A few feet behind me the group took cover. They were lucky enough to have a cluster of large boulders to hide behind giving them adequate cover from the hail of bullets compliments of The Saviors.

My eyes locked with Daryl who was leaning out from behind the enormous rock, eyes frantically searching for a way to get to me. I shook my head, yelling a loud and final "no" that made his nostrils flare.

"Go!" I screamed just as a bullet nicked my upper arm.

My hand immediately came up to cup the wound, eyes slamming shut at the all too familiar white-hot sting. It was hardly fatal, just a graze, but goddamnit I was tired of getting shot.

"Firecracker!" I opened my eyes, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to make myself a smaller target. "On three!"

"No!"

He completely ignored me as did everyone else. "One!"

The group stealthy maneuvered behind the boulder, getting into position.

"Just go!" I pleaded desperately. The gunfire had yet to let up, and I wondered how much ammo these assholes had stockpiled. "The walkers are coming! You have to go!"

If they bullets didn't kill us the dead surely would.

Again, no one even glanced in my general direction, watching Merle intently. "Two!"

Grumbling under my breath I rocked forward so my weight was balanced on the balls of my feet. A round of bullets pelted my tree causing me to cover my head with my hands as shards of wood exploded from the trunk.

"Get to one already!"

"One!"

I didn't hesitate, jumping to my feet and hauling ass. At the same time the group opened fire, covering my retreat by forcing The Saviors to duck for cover or risk dying. The few feet between me and the boulder felt like a mile. I was waiting for a bullet in my back, but the shot that would end my life never came.

I slid to a stop behind the boulder. I didn't even have a chance to groan about the sticks and rocks digging into my hip before Daryl hauled me to my feet and we were running. His hand was like steel wrapped around my wrist, his long strides carrying us away from the attack so fast it was all I could to stay upright. I think he might have run forever if he could, but my lungs demanded we stop.

"D-Daryl..." I panted, "Please."

He skidded to a halt, chest heaving, eyes locked on my blood-soaked arm. He took one giant step and was in front of me, hands tearing a large hole in my shirt so he could examine the small wound.

"It's nothing." He ignored me, probing the injury with an angry scowl. "Billy Ray is using a drone rigged with music to lead the herd away. We have to shoot it down." Again he said nothing, wrapping an old shirt sleeve around my arm and tying a knot to keep it firmly in place. I hissed in pain, pulling my arm out of his hand. "Are you listening? We have to do something."

"Ain't nothin' we can do 'cept get back to Alexandria."

I stepped back. "Yes there is. We can..."

"We ain't debatin' this."

My eyes flashed with annoyance and I shoved him hard in the chest. He barely moved, the only indication he was on edge the narrowing of his eyes and slight twitch of his jaw.

"I wasn't asking for permission," I said curtly, keeping it sparse and depriving the conversation of any oxygen so it might die a quick death.

I turned sideways, intending to brush by him, but he grabbed my uninjured arm as I passed forcing me to turn. When I did we were nose to nose, so close I could smell the sweat soaking his clothes. In my desperation I didn't see my husband, the man I loved, standing before me. I saw an obstacle keeping me from achieving my goal, defeating Negan. If we did nothing The Saviors would escape from The Sanctuary, and as soon as they did they would come for us.

"Why are you standing here, doing nothing?" I growled.

"You know damn well why." There was a warning in his tone that only served to ruffle my already pissed feathers. "Now back off."

I smirked, "Oooh, I kinda want you to make me."

Fighting Daryl would accomplish absolutely nothing, but I needed something to fight. Fighting was what I was best at. It made me feel useful, less like Negan held all the power in this situation. I needed an outlet for my fury, and he was one of the few people who could withstand the onslaught.

A year ago he would have taken the bait, yelled right back at me, the argument escalating to a point we'd need an intervention, but a lot had changed in a year. Instead of winding him up my jab had the opposite effect. The anger seeped out of him like air leaking out of a balloon. Instead of irritation in his blue eyes I saw understanding.

"Red." He said my name like a prayer, as if I alone held the key to his salvation, and just like that all the fight was sucked out of me as well. "We gotta go."

My shoulders slumped in defeat, chin on my chest while I struggled to regain my composure. I refused to let the tears stinging the corner of my eyes fall, not now when so much was still at stake. Daryl put a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"It ain't over yet."

"They're coming."

He licked his lips, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I'm countin' on it."

The war is going to play out differently in this book than the show. Truthfully, I didn't understand some of the decisions they made. Additionally what took place simply doesn't make sense based on the characters in this story. Hope you're enjoying what is happening. LOL

Until next time...