The men leave Sarah and Laura to guard the cart and horses in the underground garage of a building. They'll do some looting later, once they've checked on Laura's brother. "Do you have one in the chamber?" Thomas asks Laura.
"I remember what you taught me," she tells him. "I'm a pretty good shot now."
Thomas smiles indulgently.
"Better than before, anyway," she concedes.
Thomas assures Daryl the roof is a good vantage point from which to view the apartment complex that once housed the cult, and it is. From there, through his binoculars, Daryl can see the black iron fence and the entrance gate – and three wooden pikes that line it. Each pike has the snapping head of a walker atop it. "Jesus," he mutters as he hands the binoculars to Santiago. "Hell they do that for? It don't keep walkers away." If anything, Daryl thinks it would draw walkers, since they have a tendency to herd up. But maybe the men uproot those pikes and take them with them like a flag pole when they go out scavenging, and it helps them blend in with the walkers, the way blood-and-gut soaked cloaks do, or the way Michonne once did with her amputated, jaw-broken walker pets.
"¡Dios Mío!" Santiago mutters, lowers the binoculars, and looks at Thomas warily. "Take a look at the head on the far left. I don't quite remember what Laura's brother looked like, but I think – "
Thomas snatches the binoculars from his hand and steps forward closer to the ledge of the building to view the scene. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck no!" He rips the binoculars from his eyes and shoves them back against Santiago's chest. Santiago grabs them.
"'S Laura's brother on that pike? Daryl asks.
"Yeah." Thomas runs a hand through his red hair restlessly. "Fuck! I don't want to have to tell her that."
"'N the other two heads?" Daryl asks.
"Two other guys we let out," Thomas replies.
"Let's get out of sight and talk," Santiago says, and they go inside the building, down one flight of stairs, and pause on a landing in the stairwell. The sun filters hazily through an uncuratined, blindness window, sending a streak of yellow-gray light across the cement stairs. They stay away from the view of the window itself. Daryl leans back against the railing of the landing, to the window's right, and Thomas sits down on the stairs, so his head is beneath the window pane and his boots rest on the landing. Santiago leans back in the corner of the walls.
"The other two heads?" Daryl repeats.
Thomas sighs. "I don't remember their names, but they were cousins, and they'd only been salves for a month. They wanted to stay behind like Laura's brother. So we gave those three men the guns and left them to let out the other men after we were gone."
"'N the other men been slaves longer?" Daryl asks.
Thomas nods. "From the start of the cult. If Zami's story is to be believed, they kept those women as sex slaves at some island camp. One night Zami and some of the other women took over. They killed some of the men and castrated and enslaved the rest."
Daryl puts a hand on the strap of his cross bow. "So them other three, the ones with their heads on pikes, even though they had the guns, them assholes got the upper hand and killed 'em when they let 'em out?"
"Seems like." Santiago rests a hand on his silver belt buckle. "But why kill them?"
"If Zami was telling the truth," Thomas says, "then they're repeat rapists. Men who'll do that? They're cold blooded. They're probably cold-blooded killers, too."
"But what would they have to gain by killing those three men?" Santiago asks.
"Weren't part of their group," Daryl murmurs. "Probably just wanted their shit. Their guns. Their clothes. Hell, some assholes in the old world would kill a man over a pair of shoes."
Santiago shrugs. "Yeah. I knew some types like that in the border gangs I used to deal with. I guess the castration didn't do much to lower their testosterone."
"Surgical castration was shown to lower violent recidivism in the old world, but not to eliminate it," Thomas replies. When Daryl gives him a questioning look, he explains, "I read it somewhere once. All I'm saying is, it's not like those women didn't keep them under lock and key and armed guard."
"How many?" Daryl asks. "Men left?"
"With those three dead?" Thomas replies. "Fifteen."
"How many guns you leave 'em?"
"Just two rifles," Thomas answers. "And a hundred and eighty rounds of ammunition."
They've probably used some of that ammo by now, Daryl thinks, but two guns isn't much, at least. "'N they don't know 'bout Jamestown?"
"No, I insisted on that," Thomas replies. "They know we have a camp somewhere, and that we took Laura and Devon and Kaitlyn and Joe to it, but that's all they know."
"You're not thinking about attacking, are you?" Santiago asks Daryl.
"Just tryin' to decide if they're a threat to us. Jamestown is three hours up river by sailboat. Them salt ponds where we're gonna be minin' every few weeks are three hours on foot."
Thomas nods. "We should take them out."
Santiago scoffs.
"What, we should! Daryl's right. They're a threat."
"Didn't say they were," Daryl cautions. "Said 'em trying' to decide if they are."
"We can just walk away," Santiago says. "Why wouldn't we?"
"Because they're evil!" Thomas half shouts. "They rape women, murder men, cut off heads, and stick them on pikes! We never should have let them out of their rooms in the first place. That was Carol's bright idea."
Daryl shoots him an irritated look, and Thomas looks down at the landing. Dumbass ought to be a bit more grateful to Carol for saving his ass, Daryl thinks. Or for saving his dick, as the case may be.
"You agreed with that idea," Santiago reminds him. "We all agreed on that plan. We thought if there was trouble, Laura's brother and those other two could handle it, since they had the guns. But I guess they couldn't. That's their mistake for choosing to stay behind. Not ours."
"Yeah," Thomas agrees. He glances up at Daryl. "Sorry. I just…I feel guilty. And I have to tell Laura."
"Ain't yer fault. His choice to stay, like Santiago said."
Thomas grits his teeth. "I still think we should take them out."
"It's not our job to bring down justice on anyone but our own criminals," Santiago says. "And we only do that after a trial. Deputy."
"But we have to protect ourselves!" Thomas exclaims, his cheeks flushing with excitement and sending a pinkish-red hue across his light brown freckles. "They're on our doorstep! Just like Daryl said."
"And we'd see them coming from yards away," Santiago replies. "We have patrols, guards, gates. And way more guns than they do. They're no threat to us."
"You want me to go down there and tell Laura we're not going to do anything about the men who murdered her brother? And what if they do find more guns? What if they already have? And they come at us all at once one of these days when we're working at the salt ponds? Why not take them out now, in a sneak attack? We'll have the advantage. They won't even see us coming. Carol and I took out almost all those women, just the two of us. We'd eliminate the threat, be done with it. And they deserve it for what they did to Laura's brother. For what they did to those women. That screwed-up cult didn't come out of nowhere. And Laura deserves to bury her brother." Thomas winces. "What's left of him anyway."
Santiago shakes his head. He looks at Daryl for support, but Daryl's not sure how he feels about the situation yet. He doesn't like the idea of fifteen rapist murders roaming around three hours down river from his wife and baby girl. Carol didn't see fit to wipe them out, but he and Carol don't always have to agree on everything.
"Jamestown has never been the aggressor," Santiago says firmly. "We've only ever fought defensive battles."
"When they took me," Thomas reminds him, "you went back for troops, and you came ready to kill everyone in that complex!"
"That was a rescue mission," Santiago insists. "Not that you needed much rescuing by the time we got there. But we don't just attack people and wipe them out when they haven't attacked us."
"They attacked Don," Thomas says. "They put his head on a pike!"
"Don isn't us," Santiago insists.
"No, but Laura is. And she cared about him. He was her brother."
"Don't think with your dick, Thomas," Santiago tells him. "Don't go in half cocked to raid a camp on behalf of some girl you're trying to get in your bed."
"Fuck you! I genuinely like her. And I already got her in my bed last week!" Thomas lowers his voice. "That wasn't meant to be a brag."
Santiago sighs. "I know. Or I would have heard about it last week. Listen, I'm sorry. You care about her. I get that. And that's all well and good, but you aren't thinking straight. A raid is a bad idea." He glances at Daryl. "Am I right?"
"Dunno," Daryl admits. He glances from one man from the other. "They're a potential threat. 'N we know they done some really bad shit. Ain't like we'd be killing babies here."
"Didn't you do something like this once?" Santiago asks. "The Saviors? How'd that work out for you? How many of your people ended up dead because you thought you'd just wipe out a little outpost in its sleep?"
The deputy has a point, and Daryl can see why Garland made him a deputy. Santiago's tough and he's a good shot, but he's not violent for violence's sake. "No way to know what would of happened if we hadn't, though," Daryl mutters. The raid on that outpost does seem like a bad decision in retrospect. And it was part of the chain of events that drove Carol to the Kingdom and lost her to Daryl for years. They all brought a lot of wrath down on themselves, but maybe it didn't make a difference in the long run. Negan would have extorted them soon enough, if they hadn't starved to death first. "Ain't sayin' we wouldn't scout 'em out first, to know for sure how many they got, 'n how many guns they might of found. But we know they ain't got no outposts or headquarters. We know 'zactly where they came from. They been in that complex for years, 'n before that, some island. That camp's gone."
"Well, we're not the Council," Santiago insists. "We can't even decide this."
"I'm on the Council," Thomas says. "And you're acting sheriff whenever Earl's not around, which he's not. And when the council's not present, the charter says any government officials who are present call the shots."
"Then we better at least consult Captain McBride," Santiago says. "He's on the council, too, now, and he's the captain. Besides, if we do this – and I don't think we should – we need more fighters. And we'll need more ammo, just in case."
Daryl agrees with that, and after Thomas breaks the bad news to Laura, he stays with her in the garage to comfort her while Santiago, Daryl, and Sarah get a bit closer to the complex to scout it out through binoculars. They count a total of nine men out and about at various times. Six more may be inside. They see only two rifles – the two Jamestown left behind. It seems pretty clear they haven't stockpiled more weapons. The gardens look fit to feed fewer than fifteen, but they just be poor gardeners when not under the gun of Zami.
On the way back to the salt ponds, they detour to loot a hardware store Carol found in the phone book when she was here. The team didn't have time to hit it, or the space to haul the loot, but the cart is empty now. Thomas stands guard out front with Laura, who is still too grieved over her brother to be of much help. He keeps an eye out while he keeps a comforting arm slung around her shoulders.
Daryl gets in some crossbow practice by killing three walkers inside. Sarah takes out another three with her longbow, while Santiago casually keeps his handgun holstered, unwilling to waste bullets, though he does unsheathe his knife eventually to dispense with a seventh walker.
Some of the store has been looted, maybe by Zami's cult at one time, but there's still plenty to take. They fill the cart with nails, screws, washers, bolts, rope, twine, pipes, work gloves, and other odds and ends on the wish list Inola supplied them. Daryl takes a tin watering can for Carol from the garden section, just to have something to bring her, and because she was complaining hers had developed a crack.
They're back at the salt ponds just before dinner. They load the goods onto the ship, and the debate over what to do unravels as they all share dinner in the ship's mess hall with McBride and Lt. Alvarado. "How much loot will we get?" McBride asks.
"Well, they have two guns," Thomas replies. "And those gardens. So some vegetables and whatever else they've scavenged."
"We don't kill people for loot," Santiago says.
"Of course not!" McBride agrees. "But if we're going to kill, we ought to get some loot for our trouble! At least a gift for my little Oceanside mermaid."
Daryl eyes him skeptically. "Ya call Cyndie that to 'er face?"
"No. I only made that mistake once." An affectionate smile creeps across the captain's fair face.
Daryl pushes his empty camp plate aside on the rotting picnic table where they sit to eat. "Are we doin' this or ain't we?"
McBride guzzles the last of his water and lowers his pewter cup to the table. "Lieutenant?" he asks Alvarado. "Your opinion? You're a government official too."
"They're rapists and murderers, and we're going to have to be back here every few weeks for mining, just ten miles from their doorstep. I think it would be a relief if we knew they weren't there."
"You'll volunteer for the raiding party then?" McBride asks.
"Yes, sir."
"All in favor?" McBride asks. Thomas raises his hand, and so does Lt. Alvarado. "Santiago? Is that a nay?"
"It's a nay. I'm not in favor of this raid, but it happens, I'll come with you. I'll fight."
"And you, Daryl?" McBride asks.
"I ain't a government 'ficcial." He doesn't want this decision to be in his hands. "I don't get no vote on this."
"I won't do this if the hero of the mutiny of 7 NE isn't on my side," McBride insists.
"I'll join the raid, if that's what yer askin'," Daryl says. "But I ain't decidin' on it."
McBride nods. "You don't have to. It's three officials against one. We raid tonight. Let's round up a few more volunteers."
Sarah volunteers to join them. Laura says she would, if she were a better shot and a better soldier, but she's afraid Thomas will just be distracted trying to protect her. Junior Lieutenant Harry Merriweather volunteers, but McBride tells him no, not with a pregnant wife back home and a baby due in December, he won't be on this dangerous mission. "Hold down the ship for me while I'm gone," McBride tells the young man. Two other sailors step up to volunteer, however, and the team of eight sets out on foot, locked and loaded, just as the sun begins to set.