A/N: Hello, all! Today's chapter song is "Clearest Blue" by CHVRCHES. Quick, huge thanks to my readers and reviewers! I hope you enjoy this one.
2. Clearest Blue
Mason tried to keep her eyes focused ahead as she led the way down the road. Rick and Daryl shadowed her in a way that made her feel more like a prisoner than a guide, which might've made her bristle if they didn't look so worn. She tried to ask them a bit more about who they were, but Rick made it clear they wouldn't be revealing anything else to anyone but Ezekiel. At least Eugene was pleasant, asking occasional questions about her weapons and how she made her shield and how she learned to fight so well.
"Practice mostly, and a…friend who taught me some things," she said. "But also football and Krav Maga before the outbreak… What about you?"
"What about…what?"
"Well, how'd you learn how to fight?"
"Oh, I am afraid I only know enough to keep from becoming dinner. I…I am not a fighter in any real sense, ma'am."
He frowned, like this wasn't what he wanted to say, but he didn't correct himself.
Mason shook her head. "That's not what I saw back there."
He glanced at her doubtfully, but Daryl spoke up then with an impatient huff.
"Man, I thought you said this place was close."
"It is," Mason said, swallowing her irritation. Honestly they might've made better time, but she was trying to match the pace they were setting, which was…slow. The sun was fully out now, beating down oppressively. She was sweating a little but the men were drenched, still winded from the fight with the walkers and whatever else dogged them.
She bit her lip. They were probably starving…
"Um. Let's stop for a minute. I packed a lunch, but I didn't get a chance to eat it, so—"
Daryl threw her a look of pure vitriol. "We ain't stoppin' just cuz you ain't filled your damn stomach."
She fought so hard not to roll her eyes it gave her a headache. "No, there's enough for all of us. I'm happy to share." Actually she wasn't planning on having any of it, but she refused to give their pride any excuse.
Without waiting for a response, she heaved the supplies from her back with a sigh and dug into her bag. Daryl half-raised his crossbow, and Rick's hand twitched to his gun. Cautiously, she held out a pack of dried meat.
"Me and my jerky surrender," she muttered.
Rick took the pack and began splitting it up. Mason handed a jar of peaches to Eugene, who smirked and held it out to Daryl.
"Here. Peaches."
They sat and ate while Mason kept watch. Rick frowned when she refused her share, but fortunately didn't argue. Eugene caught her eye when they weren't looking and mouthed a "Thank you." She mouthed back, "Welcome."
Halfway through their meal, three walkers shambled out of the trees. The others tensed but Mason held out a hand.
"I got this."
Iron in hand, she descended the slope toward the dead. Their sights set on her and she began to sing, calm and clear, distracting them from the three on the road. Only once they were some distance away did she dispatch them. Clearly the men were no strangers to walkers, but with as drained as they seemed, she wasn't taking any chances.
They stared as she walked back to them; Eugene wore the same expression he had upon first seeing her. She blushed.
"What?" Then, before they could tell her what, she added, "I like to sing. Shut up."
For the first time, Rick cracked a smile. Just a small one, but she counted it as a win.
As they gathered up their things to continue on—Rick and Eugene offered to carry some of her things, but she refused—Eugene said, "Truth be told, I never thought I'd live to see the day I met the world's oddest siren."
"Huh?"
"You lure the dead to you. Odd siren."
Mason grinned. "Okay, I know you're teasing me but I actually love that."
~m~
"Alright, give me the scoop, Beth. What do you see?"
From where she sat perched on Glenn's shoulders, looking out over a twisted mangle of crashed cars, she saw a lot. Mostly that they were going to have to take a detour. She sighed and lowered the binoculars.
"About thirty on the road, but more comin' in from the east. Whatever happened here…"
"It's a siren call to them," Glenn finished with a sigh of his own. "Alright, let's look at the map."
Spread out on the hood of the car, with its scribbles and sections crossed out, it might have looked incomprehensible to a stranger. Every scout made their mark on the community maps when they needed to convey something crucial to future run groups. Beth could tell which marking belonged to who. Roads impatiently slashed through—Abraham. Thoughtful grid patterns—Sasha. Annotations in glittery purple ink—Michonne. And according to Michonne, they would have to double back five miles, then swing around another ten, to get back on track.
"Fuck," Beth whispered.
Glenn raised an eyebrow. "I'm telling your sister."
"Just cuz you're scared of her doesn't mean I am."
They climbed into the car and Beth watched out the window as Glenn drove in reverse to a place where they could turn around. It was silent for a few minutes.
"We're gonna handle this, you know," Glenn said. "I'm worried, too, but this group is gonna come through. We always do."
Beth narrowed her eyes. It was easier being doubtful around Glenn. He had a way of making her feel safe, the same way Shawn used to. Like they really could handle things.
But she remembered the farm. She remembered the prison, and Grady. A sword flash illuminating her dad's death. An explosion of red painting Merle's fate out on the sidewalk. How helpless she'd felt in all those moments.
How helpless she felt now.
But you're not, she thought fiercely. Then promptly told her doubts to shut the hell up.
"Hey, you know what would make me feel better right now?" Glenn said cheerfully. "Some music."
"Please don't ask me to sing."
"Well, if you don't, then I will."
"Oh, lord, no."
"It's one or the other, Greene."
She rolled her eyes, although deep down she really didn't mind all that much. What she did mind was that the first song that popped into her head reminded her vividly of a road back in Georgia, of a cold night spent by candlelight, the smell of elderberries.
And her.
Don't think about it. She's long gone.
So she didn't think about it, and she sang the song like she wasn't thinking about it and never would again.
"I…didn't know you were into that kind of music," Glenn said when she was finished.
Beth stared out the window, lied to herself and said, "I didn't know I was, either."
~m~
The walls barring the community from sight were scavenged and hodgepodge, but all sturdily constructed. Mason hailed the two lookouts posted atop either side of the metal gate, which creaked open after a moment. Eugene was the first to follow Mason through, though Rick and Daryl were quick to flank him.
Eugene couldn't tell if he was irritated they didn't trust her, or irritated they didn't trust him to handle himself. Either reason he knew he couldn't rationally blame them for.
A vibrantly-tattooed man and a woman adorned in grunge paraphernalia greeted them, weapons in hand but held casually. They seemed about Mason's age, mid-twenties. Both of them smiled—the man with polite friendliness, the woman like she knew she could kick all their asses.
"So you're dragging in more strays now, huh?" the woman said.
Daryl bristled. Mason spoke up loudly, shooting him a warning glance.
"Actually, they're not staying. They just wanted a chance to talk to Ezekiel."
"About what?"
"Ain't nobody's business but ours," Daryl snarled. Eugene stifled a sigh.
Rick stepped forward. "We're here to talk community relations. Nothing more."
"You're from another community?" the man asked, with what seemed to Eugene no more than genuine curiosity. But Rick and Daryl simmered with distrust, and the question was met with silence.
Mason glanced around awkwardly. "Uh…"
"Macie!"
A tiny, squealing form came sprinting from around a nearby building. The man and woman tensed but Mason grinned and held her arms out for the child to barrel into.
"Baby girl!" she exclaimed, spinning them both around. "What is up, sunshine?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? I don't believe it."
"Well, I was watching Spongebob."
Mason gasped. "You were watching Spongebob without me? That hurts, kid."
"Yeah, and I had a cookie, too!"
"Oh my god. Wow. I don't think we can be friends anymore."
The girl just giggled and wrapped Mason in a tight hug. Her eyes peeped curiously over Mason's shoulder.
"You made friends!"
"Yeah, no need to sound so surprised, kid."
Mason turned to face them, but now it was her who looked cautious. "Rick, Daryl, Eugene, this is Dray and Charlie." She nodded to the man and woman in turn, whose stances had changed from casual to protective. "And this is Charlie's niece, Ava."
But Rick and Daryl's hostility had deflated, their eyes softer with understanding.
After a beat, Mason set Ava down. "You wanna do me a favor and go let Jerry know there's some friends here to meet Ezekiel?"
"Okay!"
When Ava was gone, Mason motioned for Charlie and Dray to shut the gates, which they did before flanking her.
"They'll be returned to you when you leave, but before I can let you speak to the King, I'll need your weapons," she said, in a tone that broached no argument.
The…King?
Eugene exchanged a glance with Daryl, but Rick kept a poker face and nodded in agreement.
Charlie and Dray set to work patting down Rick and Daryl; Mason chose Eugene. Her hands were firm but gentle. He tried to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.
"Sorry," she mouthed to him.
"Quality assurance," he mouthed back.
Once they were properly de-weaponized, Mason led them deeper into the community, leaving Charlie and Dray behind to return to their posts. Old brick buildings, fruit trees, people going about business that looked less like survival and more like…living.
Alexandria had experienced that a few times, but the moments they felt safe enough to call peaceful were always quickly interrupted by a slideshow of hardships. First the quarry herd, then a pox outbreak that winter which seamlessly blended into a spring in which their crops suffered from root rot.
This was the kind of place he used to picture, back when he thought he would end up in D.C. But he'd given up on that roughly around the same time he gave up his lie.
This place was a dream.
A woman was waiting for them outside the door of a long building. She ducked her head shyly and said, "Ezekiel will see you inside, Mason."
"Thanks, Ash," Mason said. "Wait here for a sec, guys, okay?"
Rick frowned but didn't argue, and Mason disappeared through the door. The other woman didn't engage in conversation, simply twirled the pink and green ends of her hair around one finger while they waited. She was…counting under her breath.
When she got to sixty, she nodded to them. "I'll show you to the receiving room now."
"What about Mason?" Eugene asked.
"She's waiting for you, too."
The whole thing was strange, but it didn't feel as though anything sinister was going on. Silently she led the way inside and down several dark hallways, lit by nothing but a few scattered windows. When they came to a set of double doors, she stopped.
"The King awaits."
Rick didn't hesitate striding through. Daryl stuck close to Eugene as they followed. The doors shut behind them, leaving them in a small auditorium. The stage was lit up, illuminating four figures.
One of them was a tiger.
The three of them stopped dead. The beast lounged next to a man seated on what looked like a no-shit throne, but though its posture was relaxed, its eyes watched their every move.
"My friends, I understand your consternation, but there is no need of it," the man said. "Shiva's intentions run pure so long as yours do."
"Plus, she ate just a little bit ago, so she's good," Mason—the figure on Shiva's left—said.
Eugene stared at her, his expression likely comical, and realized that she looked different. She'd changed out her blood-covered shorts and tank top for a black cloak and tunic. Somehow it didn't look completely ridiculous on her. Somehow she made it look like something a reaper would wear.
The man threw her a glance that was half-amused, half-exasperated. "What my irreverent Lady here means is that you are safe in this place. No harm shall befall any of you." He spread his arms, and the chain he held jingled—a pseudo leash for Shiva, Eugene realized.
"I am King Ezekiel. Welcome to the Kingdom."
There was a long pause. Then…
"I'm…Rick Grimes." It sounded lackluster after Ezekiel's grandiosity. "This is Daryl and Eugene."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintances. This is my steward, Jerry." Ezekiel indicated the man on his right, who wielded a massive battle axe and a cheery smile.
"'Sup, my dudes!" Jerry said.
"And, of course, you have already met my Champion, Mason."
Champion?
Eugene side-eyed her and mouthed, "What the fuck?"
She winked.
"Yes," Rick said. "She told us there might be an opportunity for trade between our communities."
"Indeed, Rick, we are amenable to that. However it is customary that we know more about our potential barterers beyond mere names. From which community do you hail?"
"Alexandria. About ten miles north of your Kingdom."
"And how many under your watch, or am I wrong in assuming you are their leader?"
"You're not wrong," Rick said in a low voice. "Sixty of us. Around that."
Less than that after the Wolves, but neither Eugene nor Daryl said as much.
Surprise dimmed the warmth in Ezekiel's eyes. "And what is it that you might ask of us? What is it that you might give to replenish this well of fortune?"
"You're well stocked on food," Rick answered. His gaze was sharp, unwavering. "We can offer work in exchange for that. You need help tending to your gardens or livestock, any problems with walkers. Or people. We can handle that, in the future."
"Am I hearing that, if called upon to fulfill this deal today, you could not?"
Rick's jaw worked, like he was chewing over his words. When the silence continued, Ezekiel said, "Is there nothing else you could offer today, as assurance that I can in fact trust you to deliver?"
Eugene drummed his fingers along the straps of his rucksack. An idea occurred to him that he was certain Rick would want him to keep to himself. But it was the eleventh hour. Playing it safe here could very well result in losing the game overall.
Mason had disregarded the bullet casings inside his pack during her pat down, believing that they no longer served a purpose. But minus a workshop, he had everything he needed…
He stepped forward, drawing Ezekiel's attention.
"I can make bullets. I am keenly aware of the formula needed to do so and all I need is the proper digs to begin the manufacturing process."
He felt Rick and Daryl's anger like a wave at his back, but he stood steady. This was his worth. This was what he could offer.
Almost reflexively, he glanced at Mason.
She shook her head in disbelief and mouthed, "What the fuck?"
He winked.
A/N: I know this chapter was pretty short. Next one will likely be longer, and will definitely have more action, so hopefully you join me for that. Also, my schedule has been a little helter-skelter lately, but it should be evening out soon, and it's my goal to release chapters with some sort of consistency lol Until then, much love!