Part Two

..

Nine

Half Truths

.x.

Michonne couldn't shake the feeling of dread that washed over her as she watched Esther be dragged away by Philip. She'd seen how blindsided Esther had been, how she, herself, had faltered at the sound of Esther's jaw cracking from when his fist connected against it and saw how easily the soldier had slumped to the ground. Michonne was startled when Esther returned to the cage, covered in blood, and Michonne could tell that it wasn't her own. But she had seen the way Esther's eyes grew dark as she observed the arena didn't seem to offer Michonne any comfort.

Michonne had watched mostly with curiosity as a few of the guards had hurried behind Philip, his lapdogs following every command he made. She knew this was a bad place, and it seemed as though Esther had seen the true extent of it. And now they were taking her away to silence her.

She allowed the key to dig itself into her hand as she clasped her hand around it tightly, her watchful gaze on the guards that passed by the cages more so now than before. For every five second that passed, another guard would pass her. It was as if they were all on a revolving belt, robotically in sync.

Michonne knew she had limited time before there was a complete lockdown on the area; and if she didn't move now then she couldn't imagine what would happen to them. She couldn't allow her mind to move to that place, she wouldn't allow herself to lose hope now.

She turned to Andrea. "We've got to be ready to run, okay?

"I'm so sorry… I didn't know…"

"We're going to make mistakes but it's how we fix things that really matters," Michonne told her. "Right now, we have to find Esther and Amy and get the hell out of this place. But we've gotta be smart. We've got to work as a team. I need you to be by my side, not leaving me behind."

Andrea nodded, understanding the warning in her words. "Okay… so what do we do?"

Michonne hoped the woman was ready. "We're going to burn this place to the ground."

.x.

Esther knew from the moment she opened her eyes that she was in deep shit. Being locked in a room that looked down upon the chaos and mayhem below her, she knew she was running out of time. She all but dragged herself up the wall, her gaze falling on the groups of people below her running; with those who were once locked in the cages now free and running for their own lives, hoping to get away from the monsters that either promised them safety or had taken them away from their groups against their will.

The room she had been thrown in was a small office; one that held a small desk and a couple chairs. A whiteboard was attached to the wall with markings that now stained the surface.

The tenderness of her body welcomed her back to reality, and she slid down the glass window. She was in a weaker state than she had realised, and knowing she needed to be on top form for when he returned, she had to think logically about what she was capable of doing. The army taught her to fight until death; to know that she had to do everything in her power to make it out alive.

The door unlocked. She remained seated on the ground; her legs giving up on holding her weight. A woman with a long brunette hair tied in a braid entered the room, her eyes falling on Esther's almost immediately. Esther had seen that look in every woman she laid eyes on, the fear and sadness that this was to be their lives now and there was nothing they could do to stop the horror from happening. They had seen her army uniform and the information had spread around the compound like wildfire; the army was finally here, they all cried tears of joy. But she was one woman amongst a hundred men who would no doubt outmatch her. Sure, she could kill a few without blinking but there were others who had been trained for something. This wasn't like a video game that she used to play; there was no checkpoint, no easy way to regain composure and health. This was real.

And she didn't know if she was strong enough to fight anymore. They had beaten her to a pulp; her face and body was covered in cuts and bruises, her muscles ached and protested against the slightest movement, and she was tired.

"Philip sent me in," the woman said, her voice low and only audible for Esther although she had to strain to hear her over the pounding in her ears. "He wanted me to check up on your injuries."

"To make sure he's not fighting a dead woman?"

"Something like that," she replied, kneeling down beside Esther.

Esther scoffed, wincing as her ribs constricted. The woman checked her over with the touch only a mother would have, and her mind wandered back to Carol. The woman would've been dead if she hadn't seen her that night. Every action and every decision she made had helped other people; and unlike the people in charge here, she didn't hinder their fates. She didn't put a stop to their lives, she helped them survive when their future, in that moment, was uncertain. She thought of Andre, of the little boy who had been left behind at the safe zone and she had found him. She thought of her parents, of how she had hoped they were okay and still out there, and she thought of the moment she found them again, the promise to never leave them again on her lips and in her heart. She thought of Abraham, of how he had been so close to giving up and yet he still held onto the hope that his wife and children were in Washington.

She thought of Daryl, of how he had seen her survival, pain and guilt that made her strive for better things in this world and he had understood her reasons for wanting to help others when they weren't able to fight on their own. She faltered; her throat tight as tears stung her eyes.

"They took this place from us," the woman spoke quietly. "It was a distribution centre for the city, to help provide shelter for people, to offer them safety from the outside world. They rolled in and trampled on everything we had built here. There were no cages, no guards. It was… a good place before they destroyed it and made it this way."

"Why are you telling me this?"

The woman shrugged. "If I could bring that place back to what it was… it would be because you helped me achieve that…" she reached for Esther's hand and slid a cold metal object into it. She folded over her hand. "I'm Mary."

Esther glanced down at the object in her hand then at the woman. "You want me to kill him with a scalpel?"

"It's all I have," Mary whispered desperately. "He's going to come back in a minute. Can you help me?"

"Do me a favour when all this is over... keep finding the good in things," Esther told her, to which Mary nodded. "This world needs more good, whether it's here or not."

Mary nodded sadly. "Will you help?"

Esther searched her eyes, and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded. "I don't have anything else to lose."

Mary offered her a reassuring smile. "Neither do I."

.x.

When Philip entered the room, he was expecting to see her prepared to fight him. He was half expecting her to be hidden in the shadows, poised and ready to strike as soon as he entered the room. But what he didn't expect to find was her sat on the ground, her head resting against the wall behind her, her legs stretched out in front of her.

"Well, you do disappoint me," Philip muttered, closing the door behind him. "I was hoping for a fight, to be honest. You gave the others a run for the money. The damage you've caused is irreparable."

Esther watched as he pulled a chair out to sit in front of her. But instead, he pulled her up and pushed her into the chair, her gaze watching the madness unravel below them. He grabbed her face tightly, forcing her to stare out at the arena below. A fire was spreading rapidly throughout the entire space, licking and taunting innocent people still locked inside the cages.

"This is the damage you've caused," he whispered in her ear, and she shuddered internally. "Aren't you proud?"

She fought against him. "You did all this. Not me… you."

He yanked her up, kicking the chair away with ease, and grabbed her face to look at him. He moved closer to her, his lips only briefly touching hers before she forced her face away from him. He seethed at the rejection and slapped her across the face. She faltered, taking the opportunity to push herself away from him.

"You're going to regret that, bitch," he seethed, advancing towards her. He grabbed her, his hands wrapping around her throat as all the air within her was knocked out of her. She fell against the floor hard and she straddled her, gaining the upper hand.

But as his gaze lifted to the whiteboard fixed to the wall, he groaned. On the board, written in her scrawl, was: nice try, asshole.

With his attention focussed on something else, she struggled against him as she tried to grab the scalpel from her sleeve, before she thrusted it into his side. He recoiled in shock and pain, releasing his hands from around her neck, looking down at the glinting scalpel in his side.

"You bitch," he raged.

Esther pushed against him, breathing in as deeply as she could, and pushed the scalpel deeper and deeper into his abdomen. He screamed in pain and thrashed around in an attempt to grab her. Esther lifted herself off the ground.

"I'll see you in hell," Esther choked, moving away from him. The clang of keys caught his attention, and she rushed to the door before he could reach her. She stared at his face in the glass panel as she locked the door behind her, as he fought against it.

He punched the door as she raised her middle finger at him. And with one last smirk, she hobbled away.

She began to make her way back to the arena, weaving down what seemed like endless corridors, in an attempt to find Michonne and the others. As she neared closer and closer, she could hear the commotion, the screams and the panic. The scent of smoke was overwhelming as she ventured closer, and as she pushed open the door that led her towards the cages, she could see the chaos that ensued around her. Women were running and shouting for their family members; people—desperately running for their lives—screamed as the walkers closed in around them. Esther furrowed her brow as she realised the place was surrounded by the dead.

A guard stepped in front of her and recognised her, but she was quick to punch him across the face. He stumbled to the ground and she grabbed his rifle before he hit the floor, and quickly shot him. She could see from where she stood that there were women still locked in the cages as the fire raged on around them.

She shot at the locks of the still locked cages and nodded to the women and children who desperately ran for their lives. She saw a mother and daughter holding each other, with the mother whispering to her child as they understood their fates. She shot at the lock, raced towards the cage and threw away the padlock, opening the gate as she did so. The mother stared up at her with such a sadness that Esther felt tears sting her eyes.

"Go now," she whispered. "Get away from this place."

The mother nodded, lifting her young daughter into her arms and running for their lives.

"Fancy seeing you here, stranger," a voice came from behind her and she turned to see Michonne. "You look like shit."

Esther could only smile as a wheeze escaped her. Her gaze fell on Andrea who was standing next to her sister, Amy. Esther nodded towards the blonde sisters with pride in her heart.

"Let's get outta here, yeah?" Michonne said, pulling Esther close to her body and helping her to walk. Esther shouldered the rifle and began to limp out of the arena, with Andrea and Amy leading the way.

But a sense of dread washed over her as her eyes fell on him standing in front of them, and she faltered; and Michonne came to a halt with her. Philip's eyes burned into her as he held his side from where she had stabbed him.

Esther turned to Michonne. "Go. I'll find you."

"No, I'm not leaving you," Michonne urged her.

"It's an order," Esther told her. "Go."

Michonne shook her head. "We're in this together, Esther. I'm not leaving you behind to face him alone—"

"—she ain't alone," a southern drawl came from behind them, and Esther turned to see Daryl standing there, his crossbow aimed at the head of Philip. She faltered, her eyes meeting Daryl's whose own gaze wandered over the numerous injuries to her face and body that hadn't been there the last time he had seen her. She wanted to run to him and hold him, have his strong arms wrap around her and hold her tightly against his body.

Esther witnessed the way his face contorted in anger just as his finger pressed down on the crossbow trigger. But Philip was quick on his feet, and she saw the glint of the scalpel just before Philip stabbed Daryl in the gut repeatedly.

Esther released a guttural cry as she watched Daryl stumble to the ground, his dark clothing growing ever darker as crimson blood soaked his clothes, staining his skin. She lifted the rifle and without a second thought, she dispatched the entire chamber into Philip, and he crumpled to the ground beside Daryl. She rushed towards Daryl, her knees scraping against the ground as she pulled him closer to her. Esther rested her hand on his face, his beard stubble grazing the inside of her hand, as his eyes searched hers.

"I found ya," he whispered to her. "I told ya I would."

Esther added pressure to his stomach, "I'm going to get you help," she promised him this time.

"Farm…" Daryl whispered, pained. "Ya'll be happy there."

"I'm not leaving you here…" Esther whispered, knowing what Daryl meant. She shook her head defiantly. Tears escaped her, dripping down onto his face. Esther grazed her lips against his. "We're in this together, Dixon."

Michonne approached them quickly with the horses she had cut free. Andrea and Amy got on the first ones, and she helped Esther lift Daryl onto one and then helped lift Esther onto the same one, before getting on the other one. The spare one raced alongside them, attached to Michonne's horse. Daryl was slumped at the front, his back was resting against Esther's chest, with one hand tightly pressing on his bloody abdomen along with his own hands pressing against the wound in an attempt to stem the bleeding as she held the reigns with her free hand.

Her mind wandered as she stared at the man against her.

She couldn't lose him. Not now. Not when she had just found him.

"Hold on tight, Daryl," she whispered to him. "I can't lose you…"