The Key to a Future
"He killed them all, all of them except Jadis."
Rick's report on the Garbage Pail Kids was gruesome, another community wiped out of existence by The Saviors. While awful, I was downright pissed Rick had gone there in the first place. He said it was for "closure", but the look on Carl and Deadpool's face told an entirely different story. If I wasn't so happy they'd made it to Hilltop unscathed I'd kick his ass.
"Where's Jadis now?" Glenn asked.
Better question, who gives a fuck?
Deadpool crossed her arms, "Still there."
"Oh, well, uh." Glenn was a bleeding heart and I loved him for it, most days. Today wasn't most days. Resident Evil deserved what was coming to her and then some. That bitch had betrayed us not once, but twice, so screw her.
"Negan's coming," Maggie interjected, eyes calculating, "We need a plan."
Manpower was our biggest issue. The Kingdom was all but gone, only a handful of survivors taking refuge at Hilltop. Hilltop itself only had a few fighters, the rest dead weight that would do more harm than good if armed during the fight. I wasn't sure how many people made it out of Alexandria, but it wasn't near enough to take on The Saviors.
Resting my elbows on my knees I cradled my head in my hands, thinking through our limited options.
We couldn't run with this many people, not quickly or with any stealth. If we tried The Saviors would track us down within a few days and slaughter us. Even if we somehow managed to avoid them we had no destination in mind, and most of these people had never lived on the road. Out there with no protection, no food, and the constant threat of death they'd fold like a cheap suit.
Staying put was our best option, but this place was far from a defensive stronghold. Yes, it had walls and infrastructure, but we didn't have the people or the weapons to cover the vast expanse of land. Even if we could The Saviors could simply surround us and wait until we starved to death or batter us with their superior firepower until our walls crumbled.
"We need to set up lookouts," Rick stated, "If we spread out we can cover more area. If anyone spots The Saviors coming they use the car horn or air horn, set of a string of warnings until it gets back here."
"What do we do when they get here? We're no match for them, and they know it. Negan won't hold back this time. He'll attack with everything he's got," Beth chimed in, sitting next to her sister.
Everyone started talking at once, the loud murmur of voices like a persistent buzzing in the back of my mind. Something Beth said struck a chord. Negan was beyond pissed. He wanted retribution, and he wanted it now. The quicker things returned to "normal" the quicker he could return to his cushy life.
"He'll attack with everything he's got," I whispered to myself.
Simon had murdered the Garbage Pail Kids. Whether on Negan's order or simply to fulfill his own sadistic desires he'd still killed them. The Saviors were desperate to tip the scales in their favor, return to the status-quo. Their single-minded focus made them blind to the possible ramifications.
I shot to my feet, the chair scraping across the hardwood floor. "He'll attack with everything he's got." The conversation ground to a halt, all eyes on me. "He'll attack with everything he's got."
"You said that already...twice."
Ignoring Tara I paced the small office space that once belonged to Gregory. Biting my lip my thoughts raced, weighing risk versus reward. It was risky, but it could work. The only advantage we had was Hilltop, the walls, our protection, and Negan knew it. He'd expect us to stay hunkered down.
"Care to share with the rest of us?" Glenn asked, ignoring the chastising look from his wife.
"He knows we can't leave Hilltop, and he knows he's got the numbers."
Merle rubbed his stubbly beard. "Ya got a point?"
"Yes, you're a dick." He chuckled, throwing an arm up on the couch behind Francine. "He's going to come right at us...just like The Governor."
Rick sat up, eyes bulging. "What are you suggesting?"
"If we can control his approach, say at the front gate, we can draw him in real close."
Jesus raised his hand slowly. "Why, exactly, would we want to do that?"
"This attack is happening no matter what. The more things we can control the better position we're in to survive it." He dropped his hand, swallowing hard. I moved towards Maggie's massive desk, spinning the map around. "We'll block off all the roads except the one we want him to take. Not only does this control their approach, but it makes it easier on the lookouts. Outside the front gate we need to dig a large, circular trench here."
"A trench?" Maggie replied, eyebrows furrowed as she examined the map.
I winked at her, turning and looking at my husband. "You still got that dynamite?"
"Shit." Daryl.
"Oh crap." Carl.
"Christ." Deadpool.
"Hot damn, count me in." Merle.
"Debby, do you think you can shoot a flaming arrow from the lookout to the trench?" I asked.
The woman with dark brown hair secured in a low ponytail at the base of her neck cocked her head to the side, pursing her lips. "My name's Dianne."
"That's what I said." She opened her mouth to refute my claim, but I waved her off. We didn't have time for irrelevant details like names. "Can you do it?"
"Yeah, I can." She didn't look particularly happy, but I didn't know if it was my request or my botched attempt to remember her name.
"What exactly is she hitting with the flaming arrow?" Carl asked.
"Oil." The focus in the room shifted to Daryl which made him squirm a little, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "Y'all got drums of it sittin' behind the house."
"They were planning to build a highway up here so it'd be easier to access." Jesus' knowledge of this place never ceased to amaze. Exactly how many field trips did the guy suffer through up here? "They needed the oil for the asphalt."
"What's the dynamite for?" Deadpool pushed off the wall, coming closer.
"Sticky bombs." My answer received varying degrees of the cop eyebrow, none as judgmental as the original. "Stuff the dynamite in socks, coat the entire thing in axel grease, light it and throw."
Glenn's mouth opened and closed several times.
Maggie rubbed her face in her hands furiously.
Deadpool exhaled harshly, a heavy hand landing on her boyfriend's shoulder.
Rick's head thumped against the wall, eyes closed.
Carl, Tara, Beth, and Jesus' gasped.
Apocalypse Barbie sighed, shaking her head slightly.
Daryl looked like he was praying.
Merle was tapping his finger against his chin, a devious expression on his face that frankly, made me a little nervous.
"Have a little faith people," I said.
Daryl glanced up. "This is us with a lil' faith.
"Needs work." He smirked, standing up, his huge presence making the already small room seem downright microscopic. "Let's get to work."
Maggie immediately started dolling out tasks, jobs, and instructions to Hilltop. She managed this community like she was born to it, earning the trust and admiration of everyone in a way Gregory never had.
Speaking of Gregory, I glanced at the newly constructed prison near the fence and smiled watching the former leader sulk in solitude. My only wish was I'd been here when Maggie threw his ass in there with the captured Saviors. Man, that must have been good times.
"Ya seen Rick?" I nodded my chin at a line of cars a few feet away where Rick, Deadpool, and Carl were talking. "Gotta talk to 'em."
I put my hand above my eyes to shield them from the sun, watching Daryl. "By talk to him, you mean apologize for being a douche, right?"
His glare only made me laugh. "Ain't funny Red."
"You're right, it isn't." Suspicion clouded his blue eyes as he watched me carefully. "The two of you pulling each other's hair was the real joke."
"Whatever," he huffed, "Think we'll be ready in time."
"We better." He pulled pack of crumpled cigarettes out of his back pocket, lighting one. "Cause if we aren't, we die."
He took a long, slow inhale, holding the smoke in for a moment before blowing it out through his mouth slowly. "Yur pep talk needs work Red."
"Be careful out there. Stay hidden and give the signal the second you see them." I hated being separated from him, but it made more sense for me to stay at Hilltop and oversee the preparations. "If this goes bad get as far away..."
"I ain't leavin' ya."
"Katniss, we've been over this..."
"No." His tone was final. He flicked the cigarette to the ground, stomping on it with more force than the task required. "I ain't leavin' ya, ever."
With one large step he was in my personal space, an arm around my waist hauling me against him. He tilted his head to the side, his mouth covering mine as he took control of the kiss. My hands tangled in his long hair, and I moaned when his tongue brushed mine.
"Get a room!" Merle shouted when he walked by.
Daryl pulled away slightly, eyes roaming my face as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. My hands curled in his leather vest, my heartbeat hammering in my chest from the scorching kiss.
"You're getting pretty good at that," I smiled.
He snorted, "I was always good at it." I didn't have time to process my shock before he threw me a playful wink, kissed my forehead, and said, "I'll see ya again Red."
"This side or the other."
He held up his left hand, and I grinned, slapping the back of my hand against his. The look in his eyes could only be described as tender when our wedding bands clinked together. I bit my lip watching him walk away towards Rick, the two friends' sharing a few awkward words before stepping away from Deadpool and Carl.
"What's up with them?" Deadpool questioned.
"Cat fight." She nodded like my answer made perfect sense. "You going with your dad?"
"Yeah." Carl's attention was elsewhere, namely on Enid or more accurately, her ass. "I'll talk to you guys later."
He was bounded after the young woman and I rolled my eyes, yelling over my shoulder, "Use protection!" Deadpool slapped my arm and Carl tripped and almost fell only to right himself at the last second. "Ow, that hurt."
"It was meant to."
I rubbed my arm with a wince. "Don't tell me your ready to be a grandmother."
"Will you stop?" Fine, but she better not come crying to me when she was the youngest Me-Maw at daycare drop-off. "Trench is going good so far." I nodded, watching the mass of bodies moving with purpose to prepare for battle. "When do you think they'll be here?"
"Tonight."
"What's tonight?" Carol sauntered up still wearing her laser tag gear and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
"The Saviors attack," Deadpool answered.
"Yeah." She blew out a harsh breath, calculating eyes scanning the community. "Not many fighters."
"Isn't Toby the one who wanted to bang you at Alexandria?" I pointed at the big, lumbering man walking by with wooden planks staked high on either shoulder.
"He's cute," Deadpool smiled causing Carol to swat her in the arm.
"Stop, both of you." Stop what? I was serious. "And his name is Tobin."
Ignoring the correction I continued, "How's E handling it?"
"Handling what?" She looked genuinely confused by the question.
"That your former flame still has the hots for you?" Now Carol looked downright befuddled causing Deadpool and I to share a look.
"Why would Ezekiel care?"
"Not that I'm an expert or anything, but men tend to care when the woman they like let's another man parallel park in her pink canoe."
Deadpool snorted, bending over at the waist and resting her hands on her knees. Her shoulders shook with hysterical laughter that quite frankly scared the town folk. Carol, on the other hand, looked pissed, like setting people on fire pissed.
"I'm not interested in Ezekiel like that," she shrieked, hands balled into fists at her side. "Or Tobin for that matter."
She didn't wait for a response, stomping off, muttering under her breath. Deadpool finally regained her composure, wiping tears from her eyes.
"You never fail to disappoint Alex."
I shrugged, "I mean, it's obvious, right?" Obvious that Tobin was smitten, Ezekiel was infatuated, and Carol was clueless. Who knew laser tag was an aphrodisiac?
"Oh yeah."
"That's what I thought."
My hands were shaking and sweating slightly as we gathered at the gate to bid the spotters farewell. He'll be fine. They'll all be fine. Maybe if I kept repeating it I'd start believing it.
I managed to pull Carl aside and make him pinky promise not to let his father do something stupid. It was a tall order, but I had faith in Carl. If anyone could keep Rick and his cop eyebrow in line it was him.
Maybe.
Daryl and I kept our goodbye brief and relatively PG. He cupped my face gently, kissing me lightly on the lips. When he stepped back I couldn't suppress a slight shudder that made his eyes narrow, but I managed a small smile that kept him from probing further.
He'll be fine.
He flung a powerful leg over his bike, starting the engine. Carol appeared at my side, her hand slipping into mine and squeezing.
They'll all be fine.
The huge front groaned as it opened, the cars slowly pulling out in a procession. Daryl was the last to leave, the motorcycle rumbling loud beneath him. Our eyes locked, a thousand unsaid words floating between us. My gut clenched, the need to reach out and touch him again almost overwhelming, but I stayed glued to Carol's side. She squeezed my hand harder, remaining silent and strong at my side. I kept my focus on him, not daring to even blink. His face was like stone, emotions locked down tight, but I saw the longing he couldn't hide from me in his eyes. He twisted on the throttle, the engine flaring to life, and then he was gone, leaving a trail of dust floating in the air in his wake.
He'll be fine.
They'll all be fine.
A few minutes after their departure Apocalypse Barbie pulled through the gate in a beat up black suburban, Deadpool and Maggie opening up the back.
"I don't know what the hell it is," she state, handing Maggie a note.
"If you fill the crates with food or phonograph records, I will gladly exchange them for a key to your future," Maggie read.
"It lists coordinates for a meeting spot."
Maggie handed the note to Deadpool, sifting through the crate in the back of the car. Beth had wandered over, arms crossed over her chest, eyes suspicious.
"This isn't The Saviors." I didn't disagree with Deadpool. This didn't scream homicidal maniacs. Problem was I wasn't sure what it screamed. Nevertheless, I had a sneaking suspicion I was going to end up cutting a bitch by the end of the day. "They'd blow through the gates, make a big show. This isn't that."
"I wouldn't put nothing past 'em," Maggie countered.
I took the note from Deadpool, examining it. Who in their right mind would trade "phonograph records" for anything? On another note, what in the Sam Hill was a phonograph record?
"Well, if it is a trap, it's kind of obvious." Apocalypse Barbie didn't appear scared, but there was no telling with her these days. One minute she was reserved and compassionate and the next she was suicidal and wearing pants that had to be painted on.
Maggie huffed, "Which is what could make it a trap."
"I'd like to know what Alex thinks."
I winced at Beth's request, every set of eyes settling on me, all waiting for direction. For most of my life I'd only been responsible for myself so to have the fate of an entire community on my shoulders, yet again, was a lot.
"It's not The Saviors, but that doesn't mean it isn't a threat." There was more than one bad guy left in the world. "But that's not the questions we're asking, is it?" I glanced at the group who kept their opinion to themselves. "The question is whether or not finding out is worth the risk?"
"What if...what if it's someone who actually wants to help?" Deadpool asked the group.
"If someone is trying to help us and we miss out, we miss out. If somebody's trying to kill us, we die."
Well, this conversation had certainly taken a morbid turn.
Deadpool only smirked, probably because she knew death was afraid of her, not the other way around. "Not if we're careful."
The group considered her opinion, weighing the very real risk of death against the slim possibility of a positive outcome. It didn't look like anyone was sold on either option.
"Do you guys know what the life expectancy of a second lieutenant was in Vietnam?" I asked with a huge smile.
Carol shook her head, "No, but I'm scared you do."
"Sixteen minutes."
Beth opened her mouth then promptly closed it, at a loss for words. Apocalypse Barbie, on the other hand, had no trouble whatsoever finding hers.
"And that's good because?"
"This will take a lot longer than 16-minutes." I waved my hands around wildly to emphasize my point. "And trust me, this isn't near as bad as that."
"Your mind is a terrifying place," Deadpool sighed.
I snorted, slapping her on the shoulder. "I know, right?"
"I'm sorry, but what the hell does that have to do with anything?" Enid asked, confusion clear on her young face.
"I think what she's trying to say is it's worth the risk," Beth replied, doing her best to translate my ramblings in Daryl's absence.
"I'll go." I wasn't the least bit surprised Deadpool volunteered.
Maggie pursed her lips. "Rick, Daryl...they wanted us to stay here." Fuck that. Now I was going no matter what. I didn't like being told what to do unless I was naked.
"I'm in," Apocalypse Barbie added. She was probably only going cause the guys said we shouldn't leave. I could respect that kind of middle finger.
Deadpool glanced at me and I winked. "When do we leave?"
"Me too." Beth's voice was firm, but I saw how her hands shook.
Her sister bowed her head, firmly stuck between a rock and a hard place. "If you go, I go." She lifted her head, and it was clear she was all in. "I'll grab records, in case this is real." She turned to me, "You get extra clips in case it isn't."
Her eyes strayed to her husband who was working nearby. I didn't envy her the task of telling him we were going on a scavenger hunt. She should have employed my motto, it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
We were on the road less than twenty minutes later. A quarter mile from the meeting point, at a T-intersection in the middle of nowhere, Deadpool stopped the van and Apocalypse Barbie and I jumped out.
I headed east, jogging across a perpendicular road into the woods so I could come up behind whoever was waiting. Apocalypse Barbie would flank them on the opposite side while Deadpool, Maggie, and Beth met them head on.
They were already waiting at the meeting spot in a lifted truck, two women standing guard, when the trio piled out of the Suburban, approaching with caution. Even though their attention was solely focused on the three women in front of them I kept my steps light, making my way through the thick underbrush of the forest in near silence.
I stopped at the edge of the road, crouched behind dense bushes, watching a woman in a light gray pant suit climb out of the van. My spidey senses went bananas. We didn't have a good track record when it came to people wearing suits.
"My name is Georgie." She half bowed, holding her arms wide. "And these are my friends Hilda and Midge. And you are?" She waited, but no one answered and she nodded like she'd expected the response, or lack thereof. "Suspicious, but curious enough to see what I have to offer for food and music. I do hope the records are music. I don't accept spoken word."
Spoken word? Was this chic for real? Just once I'd like to receive an offer of help from someone who wasn't batshit fucking crazy.
Slowly I crept forward, making my way to the rear of the van. I saw a flash of black in my peripheral, and grinned. Apocalypse Barbie was in position on their other side, and unless these people who didn't accept spoken word were excellent actresses, they were oblivious to her approach.
"If you're out here, you know you can take care of yourselves, and I like that. I don't care to share this with the weak."
"Good," Maggie replied, her voice cold, "Beth."
Apocalypse Barbie emerged from her hiding place, weapon trained on the guards while Beth advanced on George. Secure in the knowledge Maggie had the situation firmly under control I opened the back of the van. The original interior had been gutted, replaced by wooden shelves stacked with papers, binders, and books. Several crates neatly lined either side, filled with cans of food and bottles of water.
It was an impressive stockpile, but it was hardly enough to sustain our community. There was enough here for the three of them for maybe a few weeks, maybe a month if they rationed. So why were they offering aid?
No, not aid, a key.
While Maggie and George verbally sparred I thought about the note. "The key to your future," I mumbled.
The key to our future wasn't a few water bottles and some canned goods. I grabbed a book off the shelf, reading the spine, The Wright Brothers, a book about the founders of modern aviation. Who used valuable space in a van they clearly lived in for a book about something we no longer had the ability to do?
The answer was simple, someone who knew the key to our future resided in our past.
Setting the book down I bent forward, placing my hands on the steel bed of the truck, head bowed, thinking. The metal bowed under my weight, and I frowned. Standing up I grabbed the edge of a wool blanket, tossing it aside.
"Well I'll be damned."
The sheet metal of the van floor had been cut away and replaced with small hinges on one side. On the other was a small handle secured by a padlock. In less than two-minutes I had it unlocked. A huge pile of papers held together by three metal rings was perched on top. The title A Key To A Future written in elegant scrawl on the cover. Inside there were hundreds of pages of notes, diagrams, drawings, and architectural plans for everything from wind turbines to the best practices for refining grains and crops.
"I've made the same offer before. Fill the crates, get the knowledge. Simple as that," George pleaded, "It's not a trick, just a fair trade. I promise you."
"It's an act of benevolence."
I strolled around the van, eyeing the woman. "That's a big word Matilda."
"It's Midge." She pointed at herself then the woman next to her. "And Hilda."
"Honestly, I feel like I should apologize. No one should be saddled with names like that," I chuckled, walking past them to stand by Deadpool and Maggie.
"What'd you find?" Maggie asked, gun still raised.
"A key to a future." I could practically feel the outrage pouring off the woman's stripped pant suit as I handed the book to Deadpool. "Relax George, this might just be your ticket to seeing tomorrow."
"My name...is Georgie."
"I don't think we know each other well enough for pet names."
She bristled, "This is an outrage. We came to you because I believed you were a fine group, manners notwithstanding."
Anger flared in her eyes and I laughed. "Was that jab meant for me George? I'm touched, really, but you're gonna have to work a lot harder if you want to piss me off."
"We can still make a deal."
"Seems to me we're holding all the cards," Maggie counter briskly. "Load them in back. You people and your van are coming with us."
Apocalypse Barbie and Beth escorted Matilda and Hilda to the van while I approached George, hoping she wasn't going to make this messy. She huffed, pulling at the corners of her jacket, holding her chin high.
"The dead have brought out the worst in us as a species," she said somberly, obediently walking to the suburban. "But it won't always be like this. Someday, people will believe again, in the good, in our future."
She pulled herself into the back of the van next to the twins Matilda and Hilda.
"Maybe you're right, but that's not the world we live in right now."
She rubbed her fingers, lips pursed at the dirt staining them. "I don't think I care much for the world we're living in right now."
"Don't worry George, I'll be there for you." The alarm in her eyes was comical. "Think of me as your Sensei in the blood sport of life."
Before she could respond I shut the door with a smile.
Ready or not...here we go!
