Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Carol ran her hand down her daughter's arms, trying to impart some words of wisdom, some promise of safety, and Charlotte nodded her head, slowing her breathing as Theo had taught her, and Carol cupped her cheeks in her hands, stroking her baby-soft skin there. She tried to keep the tears out of her eyes, at sending her daughter willingly into danger.
"I know, Mommy." She nodded her head again. "I know."
"I love you so much, baby girl." She kissed her forehead. "I'll be right there with you as soon as I can."
"I know you will."
"Okay, we're gonna go over the plan one more time with the entire group."
She inhaled. "Let's do it."
Over the course of two days they had accumulated troops from Hilltop, Kingdom and Seaside, all of them armed and ready for Charlotte's big plan. They were all within the church, waiting to hear the finalized plan, and Maggie was doing her best to ensure the comfort of the amassed troops. They were doing them all a huge favor, risking their lives and the lives of their loved ones for an unknown number of Shah at their main camp. They had no idea the number of enemy forces they would be encountering, nor if this was one massive camp or just one of a few. They would need Charlotte to determine that.
Carol and Daryl walked down the aisle of the church with Charlotte in the middle of them, each holding some part of her—Carol was holding her hand, and Daryl had a hand on the back of her head—and they guided her up to the front where Maggie was speaking. The troops all watched her make her way forward, and they watched her take her place beside Maggie.
"All right." Maggie cleared her throat. "This is Charlotte Dixon, one of the marked children that Shah want. She's…she'll be playing an important role in our plan." A commotion broke out at using a child to lure out the Shah, but Maggie managed to hush them enough to hear the rest of the plan. "We'll be using her to locate the main camp and any other camps that Shah may have. She'll be guided into the designated field with her mother and father before going in on her own to begin the plan."
Charlotte looked up at her mom, and Carol tried to smile at her, but it didn't meet her eyes.
"She's only seven, meaning she has time until she's of age, until they'll do whatever want to do with her. She can fish around to root out any more camps. She's an intelligent little girl, and I know she'll do everything she can to reveal every single camp they have throughout the area. Believe me, this will be a short war."
There were a few moments of deliberation, but ultimately there was no choice. This lead could do more damage than good should they not handle it properly, and this was handling it properly. They would hand over Charlotte, let her leave a trail and give her a day or two to gather information. She was a persuasive little girl, and she could rescue more stolen children. It would be better than just using the lead to kill off a splinter group. It would work. They were sure of it.
"Are you ready?" Carol smoothed her hairs back and grasped her shoulders. "Because we don't have to do this."
"Yes, we do." She looked over at Hershel, who had insisted on coming with them for the ride, and she exhaled. "Thanks for coming, Hersh, but I've got it from here."
"No way." He gripped her hand tighter. "I'll go with you."
"You can't." She shook her head. "They might take you too."
"Good then you'll have backup."
She couldn't help but smile at him. She loved him so much, but this was a venture she had to go on alone. She had to be brave and stand strong—stand alone. She would make him understand this. She had to. She wouldn't have them hurt him just because he wasn't the right type. Besides Maggie and Glenn would never agree to him joining her.
"C'mon, Charli, we go together," he promised.
"On anything else," she corrected. "Let me go."
"Never gonna happen."
"What's the hold up?" Maggie called from the front of the car with Glenn, knowing any second the Shah could wander too far and see them then this whole plan would be for naught. "We…should hurry this along."
Carol sent her a look like death and Daryl told her it wasn't personal, it was just for the mission, and Carol nodded. She urged Charli along, and when she finally came out of the car, she was still holding hands with Hershel. Maggie instantly saw the pair of them standing side by side and came over with Glenn. She demanded to know what he was doing, and he held on tighter to his best friend's hand, refusing to let go.
"We'll go together," Hershel replied.
"You can't go," Maggie informed him. "Only Charlotte can go."
"Says who?"
"Says your mother and me," Glenn answered. "Let go of her hand. We need to hurry."
"Then this will go faster if you just agree to disagree," Charlotte spoke up. "We…go together. I'll make sure that Shah don't hurt him. I promise, Maggie."
"No, no." Her voice broke, and she tried to change his mind. She spent a good five minutes trying to sway her son against going with Charlotte, but by the end of it, she'd only cemented his going. She was beyond upset, and Carol was glad she was forced into the same shoes as Carol had been in since day one of this threat. Maggie cupped a hand to her chest and stepped forward, trying to shake him with a look, with a feeling, but he looked back at her with the same resolved look Glenn got when he was set in stone about a decision he'd made. There was no going back, and it only wasted time trying. She knew that, but she ached at the thought of her baby in their hands. She knew she should have left him at home. She knew it.
"We'll see you all soon," Hershel promised.
"I love you," Charlotte told her parents. "I'll take care of him."
"We'll take care of each other." Hershel inhaled and tightened his grip a little more on his best friend's hand. "Let's go."
"Follow the pebble path," Carol instructed of her daughter and Hershel. "Yellow rocks, baby girl."
She nodded her head. "Where do we start?"
"Just passed that tree," Glenn pointed down the way about ten feet. "Just follow that path using the pebbles."
"Okay then." She met Hershel's eyes, they shared a nod and headed down the trail Glenn pointed out.
Carol unconsciously started to follow, but Daryl caught her arm. That wasn't a part of the plan. The plan was to let Charlotte—and now Hershel—go forward into the Shah's campsite. They would infiltrate their ranks and deceive them until they were taken back to the main campsite, leaving a trail for the troops to follow. They would collect the troops tomorrow once the trail was confirmed and take this fight to Shah.
Ila inhaled the scents of the forest, listening the birds on the breeze, and she looked over her camp, sensing something in the woods. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was a disturbance that kept her attention. She moved into an animal-like position, crawling across the forest floor and smelling the air, catching a whiff of something that wasn't flowers or honey; and she sniffed the air again, moving closer and closer to the edge of the campsite.
She rose up to her feet and ran through the stick-tents to the edge of the camp, hushing her people with a gesture and slipping through the tree. She set a hand hesitantly against the bark of a tree. "Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me who's come."
The wind picked up, an ice wave rolled through the camp, and she snapped her head to the left. Eeron approached her and asked what was wrong, but she silenced him with a look. She ran deeper into the woods, approaching a small glen full of wildflowers, but that wasn't the scent of natural flowers she smelled; it was artificial and too flowery, too potent. Laundry detergent.
She saw color move through the trees and hissed low in her throat, grasping a spear nearby and tossing it into the trees, catching the color and hearing a child's yelp. She gasped softly and ran out into the glen to bring clarity of who she'd speared.
After a struggle to free her shirt, Charlotte and Hershel moved through the trees towards the open field. Entering the glen was seven-year-old Charlotte Andrea Dixon, wearing nothing but a now torn purple flannel top and jeans tucked into her calf-high boots, hair braided back and tied up into a bun. She inhaled deeply and approached the woman who had been haunting her waking dreams and who had been hounding her and her mother for years now. She held her head up high and walked with intention. This wasn't a trap. This wasn't a handout. This was an end to a very sick problem this woman had, and Charlotte was grateful to be a part of that end. If only she could have come alone.
Beside Charlotte was Hershel Greene-Rhee, wielding nothing but the right hand of Charlotte. He knew he wasn't this woman or her people's type, and he knew that made him "safe" for the trip. They were close by anyway, and if anything happened, if anything went wrong, they would swoop down and end this cult. That was the entire plan after all. To put an end to this cult and their sick dealings. That way Charlotte could rest easy, that way no other parents and siblings had to deal with loss and wondering. That way justice could and would be served. There was no other way about this. He was sure of that.
Ila stepped forward and smiled widely at the sight of the promised one. She saw the other one with her, holding onto her hand, and while he was adorable, he wasn't one she wanted. He wouldn't be coming. They could make use of him, but she didn't want to do that. It was a long process of grooming and breaking, and it wasn't the best process for a child to endure. She left that to Erron and the boys. She had one objective this fine day, and it was time to pay up.
"Hello, darling." She inhaled deeply and studied her little face. She was as beautiful as before, the crown showing against chestnut locks, and stern eyes reflected nothing but endless blue. Just like her mother. "I'm glad you decided to come. I hate the chase once it's done."
"I know how you feel." Charlotte exhaled deeply and gripped Hershel's hand tightly. "I'm here to give you what you want."
"Oh? And how did you find me, little one?" She scanned the trees and sniffed the air, but there were no other scents there beyond the scent of these two young ones. "Hmm?"
"My mommy found a lead, and I took a hold of it, because I knew there was no avoiding this." She pointed a finger from herself to Ila and exhaled. "I don't want my mommy or anyone else to get hurt anymore, so I made the choice to come to you."
"Smart little liar." She shoved Hershel to the ground and grabbed Charlotte up by her shirt, studying her eyes closely, and Charlotte began to pant heavily, panicking that this plan was all for nothing, that she'd given something critical away, but she remembered a method to calm herself down by. She thought of Hershel, of her mom and dad, of the people who needed her to calm down, and she felt her heart slowing down just as Ila placed an ear to her chest. It fluttered nervously in its meaty cage, but there was nothing to indicate lies or mistrust in the promised one. "Mmm."
"I don't want my family to get hurt by you or any of yours," Charlotte spoke, prying her hands off until Ila just let her go entirely. "Don't you put hands on my friend again, or I'll make you regret it."
She laughed. "Such fire. I like it."
"Take me before my mother finds me and kills you." She inhaled and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Such adorable threats." She patted the top of her head. "Only I can kill me, my darling one." She picked her up off the ground and weighted her for a moment before dropping her carefully, and by this time Hershel was back on his feet and was standing protectively in front of Charlotte. "I'd switch the way I stand there, little one. She is of value; you are nothing but waste."
"Don't you hurt him." Charlotte wrapped her arms around Hershel tightly. "He comes with me."
"Fine." She inhaled. "You need to eat. Both of you."
"I'm not hungry," Hershel stated.
"It wasn't a request." She pulled a knife from her the thigh holster and showed its craftsmanship off to the children. "This is using the human body completely after death. Beauty and decay all in one tool. Just like the two of you." She held the knife between them, and Charlotte turned her head to the side in curiosity, wondering what was so special about this knife and gasping when she realized it was made from human bone. Ila chuckled. "Yes, dear heart."
"What are you gonna do with that exactly?" Charlotte gripped Hershel tighter.
"Rid you of all your past entanglements is all." She grabbed Charlotte hand around Hershel's shoulder and pried her off the young lad, keeping him at bay by a knife at his throat. He held his hands up in a gesture of peace, though there was no such thing as peace in the real world, and she tore the knife through Charlotte's t-shirt, the pouch she'd hidden there ripped open and painted pebbles came tumbling out. "Tsk, tsk, little rat."
"Those my anxiety rocks," Charlotte lied. "I paint one for each time I get nervous."
"We'll do away with that anxiety, my dear." She ripped her shirt off using the knife and looked over her naked chest, tugging down the ripped shirt down to expose her. She did the same with her pants, and Charlotte didn't understand why she was being stripped naked. Ila looked her over and saw a few scars from playing on her knees, but ultimately, she was untouched. She was pure even here. Perfect. "You," she barked at Hershel, "if you must come, remove thy clothing, too."
"Why?"
"Because you'll be assigned a new one." She rose and tucked the knife back into her sheath, holding out her hand. "Come, come, Charlotte."
"Not till he's ready too." She reached for his hand, but Ila smacked her hand away before it made contact, and she grabbed Charlotte by the back of her hair, causing the young girl to cry out and reach up to grip Il's hand. "Come, come, Charlotte. It was not a request."
"Let me go." She struggled and whimpered when her hair was pulled. "I can walk it. I can walk it! Let me walk it!"
"You've tried my patience enough, dear heart." She yanked her towards the camp, stopping only when Eeron was close by to tell him of the boy and to put him with the other boys. He would need to be taught how to think, act and become a member of the Shah. It would take a lot of rewiring, but if dear heart wanted him to be in the group, in the group he shall be.
Charlotte was dressed in an over-sized cloth gown that was itchy like a sack of potatoes(or so Mom would have said), and Hershel was given the same sack-like gown. They weren't allowed near each other. Charlotte was kept with another group of little girls who were happily eating their meal and smiling at their captors. They were slim girls, likely coming out of bad situations and environments, and had the Shah not been so psycho bananas, Charlotte would have considered them to be a good influence for these girls, but they were, so they weren't.
The Artist was crushing clay to make paint and showing the boys how to make paint, too, drawing a crown on their brows, very Lion King style, using her thumb and long nails to trace a perfect crown onto the boys' brows, including Hersh. It was to introduce them to their new role in life. The wet clay-paint was the first form, and it was the form of new beginnings. As it began to dry, the clay-paint took on the form of certain adventures, and when it was finally dried, the clay-paint represented being bound in all lives to the Shah and its dear heart.
One of the girls named Beatrice explained it to Charlotte, and she didn't like it one bit. Beatrice didn't understand why Charlotte was being this way. They were all very excited. They would be regrouping with the main horde of the Shah in a few days now that they had acquired her. It was all about her, Beatrice insisted with a giggle and offered her more potato soup.
"No, thanks." She handed her bowl over instead. "I'm not hungry."
"You really are an ungrateful shit," Beatrice sneered, knocking the bowl of hot soup into Charlotte's face, and she cried out in agony as it was piping hot.
Ila was instantly grabbing Beatrice by the front of her shirt, Charlotte couldn't even see what was happening, only hear the hissing words she spat at the girl. There was a sharp sound she heard next and something else splattered across her face and body. She couldn't see it due to the soup burning her eyes, but she could smell a too familiar scent of rust.
What Charlotte hadn't seen Hershel had. Ila slit the throat of the girl who had injured Charli. He tried to run over and help her, but one of the men grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He was told he wasn't worthy of approaching the dear heart at this time. He struggled against his captor's grip, but all he managed to do was choke himself. He called out to Charli, and a hand was smacked across his mouth. He bit down on the hand and was slapped across the face by Eeron, who looked over his son's hand to ensure it wasn't a severe wound. It had drawn blood.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," Eeron asked of the boy, and Hershel paled.
"Eeron," The Artist intervened. "He is friends with the dear heart. You mustn't upset her, not before the rituals. Lay one hand on the boy before then, and it is you who will die."
He snarled at her, and she hissed right back, but he nodded and walked away with his son to tend to his wound. The sooner the rituals were over, the sooner the waste would be handled with, and he would personally oversee the death of the Asian boy. And perhaps even force the issue-causing dear heart to watch. He'd love to see the fire behind her eyes die just before the Ritual of Rebirth. Just like best times, he thought to himself, rubbing moss into the bite marks to slow the bleeding and meeting his son's eyes.
"A thought there, Asa?" he inquired.
"If she truly is a dear heart," he whispered, "perhaps her purpose should be to serve in other ways."
He chuckled. "How do you mean, my son? As a breeder? She's too young."
"We could break her down to be one," he insisted. "She's young, moldable, and there's plenty of time. We move out tomorrow. I say we leave the boy and take the girl. Mother will need convincing, but she is a perfect match. We would be foolish to not use her to birth other dear hearts. She and I can…provide several in a few short years, and then…we shall truly be blessed by the true dear heart."
He grinned darkly at how his son's mind worked. It might just be enough gold to break her and turn her against her own kind, to pour true knowledge into her head and let her know of the true cure to this illness plaguing their world. To see The Mother pale at the beautiful creature they could create would be worth all the errors and losses this journey has taken.
