EPISODE 90 – Hostiles and Calamities
I don't know which one of us is the most surprised to see the other.
No, wait. I know him. Actually, he's not surprised to see me at all. It only looks like he is. But I can sense that the only thing he's surprised to see is the size of my belly. And that makes me wonder: how did he know I was here?
Though I can only store that thought in a corner of my mind. First, I need to answer Negan's questioning glare:
"Negan, that's my brother…"
"I didn't know you had a brother."
"I never thought I'd see him again…"
"Shit!" Liam exclaims. "Our Lord really works in mysterious ways, doesn't He? I can't believe we've found each other in this motherfucking apocalypse!"
And he wraps his arms around me in an awkward hug. Christ, have I got mixed feelings about this.
He looks older. I must do as well. He's lost the little beer paunch he had started to put on when I last saw him. He used to be a beautiful man when he was younger – though definitely not my type – tall, bulky, with a square jaw, bright blue eyes, and strawberry blond hair. I guess he's still got all that, but I'm a little blinded by the brittle, haggard look on his face.
"So… Ye're a Saviour now?" I ask him in disbelief.
"I haven't been for long. I've been travelling with a group that joined them a few months ago… And I've never felt as good since then!" he quickly adds, realising he needs to kiss some ass right now. "Nice to see ye again, Negan! I mean, boss. I mean, I wished it was in better circumstances…"
I wince at his submissive tone. God, I hate that coward. And yet, I can't help feeling a little happy to have found him in this mess. He's all that's left of my family after all.
On the other hand, Negan's wide smile is hiding so much scepticism that it is truly unnerving. He's peeking at me every now and then, and I wonder what he can read on my own features. Still, his tone is always as cheerful, with his distinctive underlying menace:
"Yeah, what a fucking crazy coincidence, isn't it, Simon? Come on and sit down, Liam. You too, Aideen, come and hear this. Your brother needs to tell me all about that attack, and how he made it out with barely a scratch on him!"
I wonder if my eejit brother realises how much he should be walking on eggshells right about now.
He starts telling a story of an armed group with bandanas over their mouths that took over the facility he was staying at North of here. How he heroically tried to defend it, up until he had to face the inevitable and run, so he could at least come here and warn his comrades. Although his tone sounds rehearsed to my ears. And I even think I recognise the plot of an old western flick that we used to watch on TV. What a fuckwit…
However, when I turn to observe Negan's reaction carefully, he doesn't seem to realise that. Of course, I used to hear Liam bullshit our father all the time when he was a teenager breaking curfew. So, perhaps, I'm the only one understanding his deceit.
After asking a few questions, Negan stands to go and give orders to his men. So they'll prepare an offensive on the taken outpost.
"Stay here, Liam, I'll still need to talk to you."
I'm not sure he's completely believing him though; I get the feeling he's going to verify that story first.
"Can I stay with him?" I ask Negan. "We've got a lot of catching up to do." And I want to know why he's hiding things.
"Of course, darling. You can tell him all about how he's going to be an uncle again soon. Well, I guess he can see that!" He turns to Liam and slaps him hard in the back. "And help yourself with a beer, man, you're my new brother-in-law, after all!"
Liam's head shoots back my way, doing a double take on my baby bump.
"Damn! Ye're the father, Negan? What wonderful news!" This time, he's being genuine, but I discern a definite cruel touch there.
Once we're left alone, he finally turns back to fully face me.
"Wow, little sister, ye'll never cease to amaze me…"
"Glad to see ye as well, Billy."
He bursts out laughing at the nickname that he used to hate. "Well, I guess, once a whore, always a whore, right?"
"I was thinking the exact same thing about ye, brother. I mean, I'm sincerely happy to know ye're alive and well, but… What the fuck are ye doing here?
"Oh, ye'll never guess…" he chirps, opening one of Negan's precious beer bottles. "God! I haven't had one of those in years!"
"Was… Was it Connor and Murphy that attacked ye?"
"Shit, ye guessed."
And my heart soars.
"Are they okay?"
"Okay?" He laughs again. "They looked fucking horrible. Covered in blood. Most of it their own. They looked like they hadn't slept in years. Those little tossers almost shot me. But they were too fucking desperate not to jump on the possibility that I would help ye."
"And ye already did. Ye lied for them…"
"Well, maybe. But it was worth it too. Now I get to tell them that wonderful bit of news… Jesus Christ! I can't wait to see their faces when they'll learn ye're pregnant with Negan's baby! What a fucking slut! How many people are ye screwing here? Are they passing ye around?"
"Will ye fucking shut up, Liam! Ye know nothing of me-"
"Maybe that'll finally bring those two little bastards down from their fucking high horses!"
"Christ, ye're an arsehole… Always have been, always will."
"If I was really an arsehole, I could also tell Negan what I know…" he threateningly mutters.
"Except," I counter immediately to kill that idea in the bud, "if ye do now, Negan will find out ye've lied to him in the first place. I wonder if ye'll still look as good with half yer face roasted."
His eyes turn mean. And only now do I spy the amount of hatred dormant there. The little love he used to have for me, even if it was always hidden under a coat of apish violence, seems to have been completely smothered.
"Maybe not. Maybe he'll forgive me if I deliver them to him on a silver plate. It would be so fucking easy. They're just waiting for my signal. So, I could tell them I got a plan to get ye out, give them a rendezvous place-"
"Ye wouldn't be that cruel…"
"Try me."
We size each other up for a moment. And I wonder. I wonder if there is any humanity left in there. That dumb fuck has no trace of any kind of intelligence, but no malice either. He's only a lemming. He would have followed any slightly charismatic leader to his grave. Like he followed our father's way of doing things with me. Like he's now following Negan. But, also, like he might have followed Rick if he had met him instead. In truth, I pity him.
"Ye know, I'm sorry Liam… I'm sorry we never managed to get along, ye and I."
He snorts. Although I can see a drop of sadness in it as well. Come on, there is love somewhere. So, I continue:
"I wished Melissa was here." His ex-wife truly was his better half. But there is something in his features, a loneliness that tells me neither her nor their boys have survived, without needing to ask about them.
"Don't ye fucking speak her name," he quietly mutters.
"I miss her too, ye know."
"I said shut the FUCK UP!"
I step back. That's the tone that usually announced a punch. And, unmistakably, his fists are balled up tight on his sides. Christ, so much hatred…
"Ye might not know that, but I've had kids as well. Two little girls. Yer nieces. And I too know what it's like to lose a child."
"Ye know fucking NOTHING! This was all yer fault!"
I thought we could still connect. I thought our family ties still mattered somehow, even after all the harm done. Though, now I'm not so sure.
"Come on, Liam, after all this time…"
"After all this time, ye're still a fucking plague on my life! That's all ye've ever been!"
He raises his hand. Exactly like our father used to. And I know a deafening slap is coming. I also know how to duck. However, my grown belly interferes with my motion, and I lose balance. While, he, on the other end, is used to me dodging his attempts.
His backhand crashes on my cheekbone. And I see stars.
We both freeze.
My hands have flown to my belly where the little bean is kicking like crazy, probably feeling the influx of adrenaline in the blood we're sharing.
Liam looks at me in horror. He knows he's gone too far. I can see it in his eyes, the little wheels spinning madly. Uselessly.
"Ye'll burn for this, Billy."
"If ye ever tell anyone, I promise ye, I'll make sure Negan will crucify Connor and Murphy before yer very eyes…"
Thus, I'm suddenly convinced that there is absolutely no way I could ever trust him. Even if he did apologise, lay low, help, there is something truly unhinged about him that tells me he would fuck it up. In the end, he would unquestionably turn back and sucker punch me, one way or the other. Like when my father had pulled the trigger and shot me in the stomach. Even though he might regret it afterwards.
I need to make sure he's rendered inoffensive somehow. My priority is that he doesn't lay a trap to my Saints. Because, right now, he's made clear that he might be more dangerous to me than anyone else.
"Ye know, I never understood what Melissa saw in ye in the first place," I muse.
"I said shut the fuck up about her!" His rage flames up as if he was a brainless puppet.
"Why can't I say her name, BJ?" And my own tone has shifted to a cruelty I didn't know I possessed: "What happened to yer wife?"
"What do ye think happened, ye fucking moron?"
He's barely controlling himself now. "I don't know. And what about my nephews? Why didn't ye protect them? Ye've always been a fucking bottler, BJ."
That's low. But that's also liberating.
And, when his fist sets off toward the side of my face, I welcome it. Ye fucking eejit. I won't need to say anything. The bruises will speak for me.
But Jesus fucking Christ! That bonehead is strong. The punch sends me flying to the side. Barely able to remain conscious.
I've got enough, of course. My nose is bleeding, and my skin broke somewhere around my temple. The thumping in my head is going to make me regret this poorly thought out plan very soon.
Although, unfortunately, even in my daze, I realise that he's not nearly finished.
"Ye fucking slag! Ye shut up about them! This is all yer fault!"
"My fault? How-" I feebly try to protest, but another blow makes sure I stay on the ground.
"She divorced me because of ye!"
I would have retorted that he'd brought it on himself, but a kick to my sternum knocks the wind out of my lung. And I confusedly understand that I have fucked up way worse than I thought. What the fuck have I done?
"We were fine! We were fine before ye came back into my life!" He cries, sobbing now. And the kicks start raining.
I curl up in a ball on the floor, trying by any means to protect my stomach from my brother's overwhelming fury. My little innocent bean, still kicking hard as if it wanted to wrestle as well.
"She left me and took my kids away because of ye! So, when it all happened, I wasn't even there! I wasn't there to protect them! They all fucking died! All because of ye!"
He's completely lashing out. I cannot defend myself. The pain doesn't fully register yet, but every hit brings me closer to losing consciousness. Though I fight it with all my meagre strength. Because I need to protect my belly. I need to make sure he kicks me anywhere but there…
Then, there's a cry that doesn't come from me, and it suddenly stops.
I can't even straighten up to try and understand what's happening, though I manage to open one eye.
So, I see it. Plus, I hear it.
Negan's bat. Lucille. Hammering into Liam's skull. Again. And again. And again.
No word said. Only the tall lean frame of my captor looming over my brother's lying form. The splashing of grey matter spraying the walls and furniture around us.
It doesn't stop. It seems that Negan's cold rage has rendered him blind.
He keeps smashing the remains of blood, brain and bones into the ground.
And I just watch it in awe.
Until my weak voice finds a cramped, gurgling way out:
"Negan? …Negan stop… It's not moving. The baby… NEGAN! The baby's not moving any more."