L.
The newcomers' words hushed everything in the smelly barn into a stark, telling silence as the recruiter of Alexandria's Dream felt the cold dread grip him. His heart started galloping in his chest as fear made him have cold sweats while he sat on the ground against the wooden beam, his hands tied behind him still.
The sudden silence was only broken by the scratching of the wood the cabinet made as they dragged it over the dung and hay covered floor. The Deputy, Rick Grimes, was already with the newcomers. Leaving the female officer, the agitated, provoked man had run to the newcomers as soon as the words were uttered, already helping them to place the cabinet in front of the wooden door to secure the entrance.
Soon the tell-tale snarls and growls started echoing inside the barn, too. The dead had arrived. With another shiver of dread, Aaron wondered about Eric. Their camp in the abandoned warehouse wasn't very close to this place, a few miles away. They hadn't wanted to stay close, but if the herd—
The recruiter tried to quell down the worry he felt. But as the snarls and growls came, the interior of their little safe haven suddenly became staged as a battleground. It—it happened so quickly, so meticulously, that despite the dread, worry, and fear, Aaron watched them in awe as they set their perimeters.
Aaron was no foreigner to dangerous situations that escalated quickly. In his time in the Nigerian Delta, he'd lived through a few of them, perhaps not as dangerous as these experiences, but quite frightening all the same. From the group, the recruiter observed the same level of practicality and levelheadedness Aaron used to see in the private military who usually were detailed as their protection.
"Daryl, how many?" the Deputy asked the new arrivals as the same time he motioned at the lookouts in front of the windows who had warned them. "Carl—Glenn, bring the saddles. I saw 'em in the stables." The teenager and the Asian man both hurried towards the left side where Aaron thought the stables might be at the same time the Deputy returned to the new arrivals.
"More than four dozen, at least—" the man who must be Daryl answered. Aaron saw angel wings at the back of the man's vest, white on the dark leather. "More might be addin' up—" the roughish man continued. "They came from the north side—"
The north. That was where the warehouse was before Aaron had left. Eric—his partner, his husband, the man he loved—even thinking of him alone with the dead made his heart skip another beat, his throat tightening. He—he should've never accepted this. Never accepted to take Eric. Aaron was equipped for this, or he at least thought himself equipped for it, despite the current evidence of his bound hands, but Eric… No, Eric had only come because he didn't want Aaron to leave alone. But there was no one else. The suppliers were out on a long run, and Aiden's team—well, if Aiden's team were here now, Aaron was sure they already would've been in deep shit. No. It had to be him. Eric just hadn't wanted him to go alone… Deanna was right about that. Their town needed a sheriff…
His eyes moved and caught the Deputy. As if he sensed his gaze on him, the man slanted a look at him. Aaron prayed for all the higher beings he could think of, he hadn't made a mistake. There—there was something in the man's eyes that reminded him of Dave—a glint of a sharp edge, as if his electric blue eyes were reflecting light, even though there was no light whatsoever to reflect.
Aaron had taken the leap, made the call, and now he was seriously hoping it wasn't a mistake.
The entrance hall, though, as far as he could see from his vantage point, was getting crowded with the rest of their people drawn to the clamor. The female officer was now circled around with others that looked at her for answers.
"Amanda—what's happening?" A girl in her late teens with shoulder length blonde hair asked. "Walkers?"
The officer nodded. "Yes. Move back—" she ordered, but the teenager stayed where she was, ignoring the cool order. The officer and the deputy shared a brief glance, and Aaron wondered what kind of relationship they really had.
They'd retreated to have a special talk a few minutes ago away from the others, Aaron had caught. They'd been talking fiercely, he had also observed, having a discussion. Although their body language was agitated, it also revealed a personal closeness as they didn't look like they minded getting into each other's personal space. In his training for being a dealer for NGO operations, Aaron had studied body language closely. The signs told him a close relationship, even though Aaron couldn't be sure of its nature. Just two law enforcement agents that were bonded to keep their people safe and secure or more—on a personal level, Aaron couldn't tell exactly. He wished he could. Deanna would like to know that.
Their leader was always quite determined to know whatever info he could gather for his…candidates before Deanna started interviewing them with Denise. Deanna's mind worked like this. Knowledge was her most important tool and weapon, even though sometimes Aaron got…worried that it also made her…biased in her opinions.
In any case, Deanna would also like to have another officer and a sergeant to run at her beck and call. Aiden was too unruly. Heath sometimes was too…inexperienced. They needed these people. He wasn't sure of everyone's dispositions, but Aaron knew at least that much. As he spied on them in a time of crisis, his judgment on the issue became even more certain.
"Everyone—move back!" The deputy waved his arm, his voice rising as he turned aside toward the company they'd started to get. "Amanda—move them back!" he shouted at the female officer from the door, even Aaron heard from the hall where he was settled. "Draw a two-level defense line—" he ordered. "If the door falls, we'll keep them at bay. You protect the kids."
The female officer didn't say anything, but Aaron still read hesitation in her body language. He knew the reason. When he came to, he'd surveyed the barn. There was no back exit. If the door was broken down, they were going to be stuck there with no means of escape. It was probably why the deputy wanted a two-level defense line, as well.
One time in a different life, two squads of Blackwater soldiers had protected them against the militias using the same strategy.
Two-level defense line, Aaron decided as he surveyed the situation, might be the best course of defense. If the doors breached, the first line would kill as many as they could, leaving those who slipped by to the second line to deal with.
The officer and the deputy shared a quick glance before she spun on her heel and snapped her fingers at the lookouts. "Glenn—Carl—" She waved at the teenage boy and the Asian man. ""You're with me. Carol—you, too—"
Carol was a woman in her late forties with salt-and-pepper hair. She looked kind and petite, but there was a stoic expression settled over the woman's features. "Rosita, get here, too," she shouted at a Latina woman with some interestingly bad fashion choices, getting closer toward him in the hall. "We form a defense line—" the officer explained as they circled her beside Aaron.
Across them, the deputy and others were still trying to pile up whatever stuff they could find against the door and cabinet; broken equipment, furniture, tools, buckets…everything, everything went up on the cabinet. The snarls and growls were coming a lot louder now, and Aaron dreaded once again it wasn't going to be enough to hold.
A second later, Aaron wondered if anyone was going to free him.
He suspected the deputy wouldn't do it. But—the officer, Aaron didn't know. The way the woman had asked him those questions… Are you a good man, Aaron?
Aaron hadn't lied. He—he was trying to be. Still.
As if she somehow read his mind, standing a few feet from him, the woman's green eyes found him, and they exchanged a glance. Hers stayed on his for a split second before she raised them and found the Deputy's across the way. Aaron watched them as they shared another silent communication.
Aaron had a wild guess what they'd be talking about right now. Him.
Should we free him? she asked.
The Deputy even made a little head shake. Nah…I still don't trust him.
Her jaw squared a bit, but she didn't argue, turned on her heel again, and started marching toward the back.
Her little group followed her example, trotting after her. Before they reached him, Aaron felt another gaze on him. He turned and saw the Asian lookout give him a loaded look, more openly. Then the man took out his knife and walked to him.
Aaron drew in a sharp breath.
"Glenn!" The Deputy called out to him, catching the man.
The man, Glenn, leaned over his shoulder, Aaron followed his movements with his eyes, towards his bound hands… The blade cut his bonds. "He can't stay like this—" His voice was a rasp, as if he could barely force it out of his throat, and for a second, Aaron wondered if the Deputy heard it.
"He's not one of us—" The Deputy called out. Aaron sensed the…strain and anger in it, but he didn't stop his…liberator.
"He answered the questions—" Glenn replied, before leaving Aaron to join to the defense line.
Aaron got to his feet, rubbing circulation back into his wrists, and walked toward the entrance. The deputy and the last arrivals eyed him, the Deputy's gaze heavy and loaded as loud banging on the door started accompanying the snarls and growls outside.
The dead had arrived.
"I want to fight—" Aaron said as simply as possible. If everything were going to go according to plan, these people were going to be his people. He—he must help them.
The Deputy gave him another long look, clearly assessing, searching, measuring, and Aaron still knew he didn't trust him, but at the end, he nodded. "Daryl—" he called the man with angel wings. "His knife. You got it?" he asked.
The man who had found him in the woods responded with, "Yeah—"
"Give it back to him."
The hunter, Aaron had surmised, took out his ivory hilted blade. "Ya done it before?" the man asked, giving it back to him.
Aaron shook his head and told them the truth. "No. We usually run when they hit a dozen."
The big, redhead sergeant put a heavy hand on his shoulder, growling out a bitter laugh. "That's when we usually start grabbin' them at the balls—" He roughed out with another laugh, pulling him to his side. "Welcome to our world, buddy."
Aaron let him as inside he prayed once more that he hadn't made a mistake by misjudging these people.
# # #
As his family retreated towards the back, Rick's gaze followed them closely.
Carol was standing at the farthest corner, and four or so feet ahead of her, Amanda had drawn the second defense line. The distance was enough to deal with anything that slipped by, so Rick nodded to himself as Amanda motioned for Beth to give Judith to Carol.
Amanda could only trust Carol's cool demeanor and tactical mind to protect the kids when she would lead the line. Carol was standing in the corner, Judith tugged to her chest as his baby cried, hiding herself as Carol held Mika's hand with her other hand. The little girl's face was pale and horror stricken once again. Beside them Eugene was there too as Ford had sent the scientist behind the line for the best protection.
Glenn was holding the left wing and Rosita was on the right with Sasha and Bob as Amanda took the middle and apex of the arc. Beth was at her left, next to Bob, and Carl at her right, and Rick felt glad. Other than beside him, there was no place else Rick would want his son to be than at Amanda's side right now.
The others - the boys, the priest - were all just behind them. The boys with Noah wanted to get in their defense lines, but Amanda refused, putting them just behind them, not risking her formation with anyone who had never done this kind of fighting before. Carl and Beth, Rick realized then—they were no longer just pupils, but her apprentices.
With the snarls and growls the excited dead made from the other side, Judy started crying even louder, but even Amanda didn't do anything for it, but let her cry as they waited.
If they would outlive tonight, Rick swore quietly never ever let the kids live through such a night like this again.
# # #
By the time the doors were breached, Beth felt her heartbeat rise, but oddly enough, she wasn't afraid. There was no fear in her anymore, as if she'd forgotten how to feel it.
Her eyes moved, and she looked at Amanda, the family she had, her sister, her blood-sister. "Don't be afraid—" Amanda told them.
But Beth wasn't afraid.
Her eyes skipped to Carl as ahead of them, the first line took on the plunge of the dead. She saw Rick and Daryl fighting, as wild as always, protecting them at all cost. For a minute or so, Beth wanted to join them, too. Joan was there, beside Daryl, Beth wanted to be, too. She wasn't just a rookie anymore. She'd seen the ugly side of it, lived through it. She had her scars now. She didn't want to stay sidelined, but then by the look of the shape of the things to come, she felt like she didn't need to.
She didn't need to go to death, death was coming to her. Death was always coming to them. She brushed her fingers across her palm, feeling her scar. She wondered if she could draw in there her circle.
"Hey—" Beth called out to her friend. "My music box—did you hide it?" she asked, suddenly remembering the broken thing.
Carl gave her a look from Amanda's other side. "Yeah—"
Beth nodded. "Good."
Good. That moment Beth realized she didn't mind that the music box didn't work anymore. She just liked it as it was, a pretty little broken thing. There was a hidden…beauty in it… if you chose to see it.
# # #
When it was finished, they were all bloody, but alive.
Once again, they were lucky. The numbers didn't increase, stayed as a fairly manageable three or so dozen, and it was also quick enough. Close, but quick enough.
Letting out a deep breath, Amanda wiped her hands over her pants and turned back to see Carol and the kids. The looks on their faces made everything much simpler and basic. They needed Alexandria. The kids—the kids should never ever live through this again. It was time to get them in.
Amanda crossed the safe distance between herself and the kids. She first leaned down and pressed a firm kiss against the little girl's head as Mika pressed herself tightly against Carol's leg, then raising up, took Judith from the older woman.
She held the baby close to her chest, heaving deep breaths, trying to reach a state of calmness, breathing her baby scent in. Even Judith's scent had mixed with the woods now…but the sweet ripe scent of innocence was still there underneath. They were okay. They were going to be okay…
Carl was beside her; had come to check his baby sister. Amanda turned her head to look at him. "You okay?" she asked the teenager.
He gave her a brisk nod, reaching to take Judith from her. Amanda let go as Rick walked towards them, too.
"You okay?" he asked them the same way Amanda just did, and they all nodded wordlessly.
Amanda looked at the kids, looked at Carl, Beth, the young men, the priest, all of them, then spun on her heel and started walking toward the recruiter. It was enough, enough of this shit. "Amanda—" she heard Rick calling out behind her, but she had enough of this.
More than enough. More than a lifetime…
She stood in front of the recruiter. "Can we leave now?" she asked directly. "Do you have enough vehicles for all of us?"
"Amanda—!" Rick called out to her, his voice raised a notch as he came nearer. "We still need to talk about this!"
She turned to him and yelled in his face. "Talk about WHAT?" She didn't care a fuck anymore, or the fact that she'd just started a shouting match in front of an audience. She'd had enough. "We don't even have this godawful smelly horseshit barn anymore!" She started marching him backward in her fury. "WE'RE GOING, RICK!"
Everything was silent after her exclamation, all of their gazes on them. Amanda thought then that perhaps she shouldn't have done it—but she just couldn't take it anymore. She really had enough...of everything. They had to get inside walls. Not tomorrow, or the day after, or anything else in the future. Now. Rick stared at her, eyes hard. Not giving an inch, she glared right back. If he wanted to do it like this, they were going to do it.
Everything was really silent now, everyone quiet, perhaps just too shocked at her suddenly losing it, or they just didn't want to get in between them. Amanda didn't know, and she didn't care, either.
In the end, it was the recruiter who broke the silence. "We—we have an RV—" the man remarked slowly. Amanda turned to him at the same time Rick did.
"Could we all fit in it?" she asked.
"No," he replied, but quickly added. "But we also have a car," he said. "I came here with my car. We will be a bit crowded, but yeah, we could fit in."
She nodded firmly. "Then it's settled." She turned to look at all of her people, pointedly ignoring Rick.
They all nodded, too. Amanda turned to the Sergeant. "I wanna talk with this Deanna," Ford stated. "The earlier, the better."
Amanda gave a half nod, then finally turned to Rick.
She received another look in answer before he shifted his gaze to the recruiter. "Where is this RV?"
"My partner is waiting to the north. A few miles away." The man paused. "We could trek there, I suppose. We have radios, but the battery ran out."
Rick's jaw squared. "Night journeys are dangerous, more on foot."
"We don't even have a door, Rick—" she reminded him, keeping her voice calmer this time, gesturing at the broken door where the rotters were piled around. "And this place is a graveyard."
His eyes moved toward the door, checking it out, and this time without further dragging of his feet, Rick nodded, albeit forcefully. "'kay. Pack up. We leave in half of an hour."
They started clearing the barn, packing up as quickly as possible. No one really wanted to stay here a second later than necessary. She wasn't the only one.
Rick found her at a corner close to stables as she checked the barn in a final sweep for not leaving anything behind. "Amanda—" His voice was soft as he checked one of the saddles they had forgotten to bring to the door. "I was already going to see it."
"I know—" she said, accepting. She knew. He'd already said it, said if they all wanted to do this, they were going to do it before the dead attacked, but Amanda had grown tired of this game, tired of running on his o'clock at his own convenience.
"I told Ford when he was pushing you to go to DC that you do what you do on your own time, and your clock runs on your own convenience," she told him, openly staring at him. "And worse—" she fumed, a heat creeping into her voice as her tone turned accusing— "You expect all of us to just fall in behind it!" As soon as the words left her mouth, she became aware she wasn't just talking about tonight or Alexandria, but about…everything.
She wanted to stop and retreat, but she had already started, and there was no going back from it. The way Rick's jaw clenched told her much the same, too. She shook her head. "I guess I'm just tired of it."
Rick let out a low snort, throwing the saddle on the wooden floor with a bit more force than necessary. "You—you're tired of it?" he asked, his voice tinting with disbelief. "Me doing stuff on my own convenience, really?" he asked, shaking his head. "How was that saying, Amanda?" He closed the small distance between them quickly and cornered her inside the stable. "About people living in glass houses and throwing stones?"
As Amanda really realized she'd started something she rather preferred not to do right now, she decided to bail out. "We need to go—" she rattled, bypassing him to leave the stable box, but he caught her elbow.
"No—you started this—"
"Rick—" she hissed. "We need to go. This is not a good time."
"Then why did you start it?" he exclaimed, as quietly as possible, leaning over her.
"I didn't start anything!" she said dismissively, trying to pass by him again. She—she just wanted to go now. If she started it, she was finishing it, too! She didn't run on his damn o'clock.
"Amanda—"
"I need to prepare—" she cut him off. "Move away."
"Amanda—"
"Rick—"
"RICK!" His name rang in the open barn echoing as a red light brightened inside the dark interiors. She watched him in the red shadows as they snapped their heads towards the entrance as Daryl shouted again, "Rick! Come over here!"
The scene reminded her faintly how things were in the prison—and before she could stop herself, she started laughing as Rick turned on his heel and started running towards the broken door.
And here they were—returning to the beginning once more—the shouts of his name ringing in the air as he ran madly towards yet another problem—a discussion cut in the middle.
Not that Amanda minded. She heaved out a deep breath and started moving out of the wooden box completely, she wondered what had happened this time. Because something always happened, right?
That much didn't seem to change even with their newfound safe haven, Alexandria's Dream.
Amanda moved aside a few steps more and saw through the broken door that outside, the night was lit up with a red star.
It took her a second or so before she gathered what happened.
A flare—a flare had been fired.
Fully understanding what was happening, Amanda started running after Rick.
# # #
The recruiter was out of his mind. "It's my partner!" he shouted as he ran towards the broken door, struggling with the dead corpses that piled up over the threshold. "It's—it's Eric! He must be in danger!"
Rick watched the red skyline as the red smoke of the flare slowly dissipated until it faded completely and left the place to darkness once more. The recruiter tried to get over the dead that blocked their entrance. This had worked for their advantage as the fallen corpses had formed a natural barrier like trenches. Aaron struggled over them to cross to the other side before Ford pulled him back. "Easy—man, tell us what happened?"
"It's our signal!" Aaron said, pulling himself out of his grip. "We only fire the flare when we're in danger. I—I need to go."
Rick just wanted to sigh deeply. Tonight was certainly one of those nights. A night that just couldn't seem to end. In a matter of a few hours, he had a fight with Amanda, a semi talk that was interrupted, this Aaron came with his offer of an oasis, the dead attacked, he had another fight with Amanda, a shouting match nevertheless in front of everyone, then another fight, and their talk was interrupted once more.
He had no idea why that came up, or what she was exactly accusing him of doing when she was giving a name for herself doing stuff at her own damn o'clock! Three weeks—it'd been almost three weeks since that night when they left Shirewilt Estate burning, and she wasn't even letting him touch her now! She'd been sneaking into his arms every fucking night for three weeks before dawn and slipping away at first light! And Rick—Rick was the one who was doing stuff on his own time?
She must be kidding him. Only Rick was sure she wasn't. He wondered briefly where they would've gone with it if they weren't interrupted, but he really didn't want to know. He was tired. He just wanted to take her in his arms and sleep, With his children beside them. He just wanted to end tonight.
Apparently, he would not.
The recruiter shook his head again. "I need to go—" he rattled out, agitated. "The dead would already start drawing to the sound and light. I need to go."
The man turned and looked at them, and suddenly there was a silence between them, everyone thinking the same.
The night trips were always dangerous, and they'd just lived through another close encounter. The walkers might have already been drawn to the clamor. The rule of survival was easy. When things went south, you started running. Away from the clamor, not into it.
Yet, they also didn't leave people behind, and it was someone from his people he would go—but—Aaron wasn't one of his people, nor his partner. He was—he was just someone Rick might share the accommodation.
He didn't take risks. He didn't do reflex actions anymore. That wasn't how they survived. Yet, his son was looking at him again with that look, and his question echoed in him—and who are we, dad?
They were—they were a bunch of people who tried not to die in the apocalypse. They killed the dead, didn't hurt people unless they tried to hurt them or others, but none of that included going to save people. His eyes moved to the priest, the man whose inconsideration and stupidity made someone from his family pay the highest price—and Rick's eyes moved towards Glenn— He answered the questions, Glenn had said, as he cut the recruiters' bonds.
The questions…
A good man found me like that , too. Brought me to his home. Are you a good man, too, Aaron?
Was he—was Rick still a good man?
Rick, you can't just be the good guy and expect to live.
But, Rick was still…living.
Perhaps Amanda was right. It—it shouldn't be so hard to stay…decent. His eyes moved and spotted her. She was looking at him, as if waiting his decision too…And Rick remembered that night—the way she looked as she told him she was going to burn the butchered town nevertheless, the way her words made him feel—the way they made him utter the words to her without any filter, without a thought.
He loved her, loved her for that spirit, but the only way to keep her like that was also keeping his own hands dirty so hers—his family's hands would stay clean. Rick was okay with that. He'd made peace with it. That night under the moonlight he'd accepted that it was a necessary evil he needed.
No. He—he wasn't a good man anymore. Rick knew it. If he had to, he would leave the man and his partner to die without hesitation. This—this was the real world they lived in. There weren't many places left for the good men in it. No. Rick wasn't a good man anymore. But sometimes…sometimes he—he still tried to be. A good man found me like that, too. Brought me to his home.
His jaw clenched, Rick turned to the recruiter. "Do you know his exact location?"
Saying that the recruiter looked surprised would be an understatement. Rick could feel the sentiment. He—this wasn't only for them, but also for his family. His family—his family was going to live with these people, so he—he had to try. "He was in a warehouse when I left him," he answered after the brief, but shocked, silence. "Will you come with me?"
"We'll check it," Rick answered telling him truthfully, "If we can help, we will. If not, I won't." He was not going to risk anything for him or his partner. He'd gone to Terminus because his people, because his family, was there and killed them because at that time he could. Rick had stopped leaving the sonofabitches alive whenever he could. If he could help his new fellow resident now, he would. But not the other way.
To keep things perfectly clear, Rick started walking to the recruiter. "Let's get something clear, Aaron," Rick told him. "I'm not a hero. This is not a favor," he went on as openly as possible. "We're going to live together, share the same place if this works. I don't want it starting with something like this. But if I deem it not safe, I won't take the risk," he concluded with the same hard honesty.
Looking at him, Aaron nodded. "I understand that—"
"Good—"
"—But I appreciate the effort, nevertheless," the man finished, ignoring his remark.
Rick shook his head with scoff. "You were a conciliator before, right?"
"A damn good one."
Rick nodded with another scoff. "Let's go." Rick moved his head. "Daryl—you comin'?" he asked.
His brother nodded without hesitancy. "If you go—" He turned to the soldier. "Sergeant?"
Abraham Ford shook his head. "Nah. Can't risk it."
Rick eyed him coldly. "I don't know, Ford. Deanna sounds like a woman to be reckoned with it. She wouldn't appreciate you letting one of her own die without making…an effort."
Ford gave him the same cold look back. "That's why you do this, Deputy?" he asked. "To get in her good graces?"
"Just being a good citizen."
Ford turned to Rosita. "Ros—you stay with Eugene. I'm going with them."
His Latina girlfriend nodded.
"Where's your car?" Rick asked.
"On the road close to the barn. A five-minute trip," he answered, before asking as they started preparing, "Are there any doctors or medics among you?" he asked. "The flare is our emergency signal. If he fired it, he might need medical assistance."
His eyes turned to Joan, but Daryl shook his head. "Nah. She stays." She turned to Daryl, too. "You did enough today. Bob—you comin'?"
The medic nodded. "Um. 'Kay."
Leaving them, Rick walked toward Carl, who was still holding Judy. He leaned forward and kissed his baby girl's hair. Beside them, Amanda stood still in silence as she just looked at him. Rick turned to Glenn. "Glenn—you coming, too?"
The younger man nodded without a word and started walking toward the broken door. Rick turned to Amanda then. "You stay with kids—" he told her. "It won't take long—"
"Rick—" she interrupted him, stepping closer to him. "You—you don't have to do this." She moved them away towards the stables for some privacy. "What I said—"
"It's not about that—" Rick cut her off, too. It wasn't. It was another discussion they had to have. But not today. "I meant what I said, Amanda," he repeated. "I'm going to find us a home. If you believe that town would be that place, then so be it." He paused and took a step further in her. "I'm still trying, Amanda."
Hearing the words, her eyes tilted up at his, and she gave him a long look before she smiled faintly. "I know." Her hand raised and briefly touched at his cheek. "You—you—" She shook her head. "Just don't do something stupid."
He smiled back in the same way, moving his head to kiss her fingertips. "I won't. I promise."
"Good." She breathed out as his lips lingered on her fingertips.
He looked at her. "When we get there, we talk, 'kay?" he asked her again in a whisper.
Lowering her hand, Amanda gave a shrug, which meant—honestly, Rick wasn't sure.
"Rick!" Daryl shouted again from the entrance. "We're ready."
Later, he told himself, much like he'd been repeating since they'd lost the prison. They were going to deal with it later. He leaned and gave her left temple a quick kiss. "Stay alert, stay safe—" he muttered before he turned and walked away.
# # #
After they left, the barn turned quiet and cold. They were huddled together closely against the windy, chilly air, sitting on the wooden floor covered with horse dung, filth, and hay. In her mind, swimming pools and Jacuzzis rafted briefly as Amanda wondered if this really would be their last night in literal shit like this. She couldn't find a clear answer for her unspoken inquiry, so she ignored it.
Already fully packed up, there was nothing else to do other than sit and wait, left behind. Amanda hated it, she had always hated sitting idly, thoughts shifting in the mind…worrying. She would've liked to go with Rick and the others, but she just—couldn't take another fight with him at the moment. She was tired, too tired. Her eyes skipped to Carl and Beth where they sat a few feet away from her, Judith crawling over Carl's hip as Beth looked at her music box. She'd opened the inside of it, checking out the gears. The thing was still broken, Amanda already knew. Rick had worked on it before, but it hadn't worked. She thought for a second to go and look at it, too, just to do something, but she stayed where she was.
Looking at Judith, she almost went and to take her, at least play with the baby girl, but something stopped her, too. Her eyes moved towards Carol, with Mika laying over the older woman's lap. She felt that—alienation, the same helplessness again as her fingers clutched each other unconsciously, calloused skin, tough with years of handling guns and equipment…
How was that saying, Amanda, people living in glass houses and throwing stones? Rick words slowly echoed in her mind, as Amanda shook her head agitated.
Perhaps they—they just should've left. She just wanted it ended now. Go to that town, and whatever happened, would happen. She was so tired of it…
I'm still trying.
Weren't they all? Still trying?
Her eyes darted again toward Beth and Carl, then to Carol and Mika. There was that tug in her chest, that ache—so, so stark—for that she wasn't even sure anymore… The chilly night wind whistled inside the barn, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Amanda stood up and started walking to the entrance.
Rosita was beside the window, stationed as the lookout with Sasha. Amanda ignored them. Joan was pacing with Noah at the other side of the barn, checking out everything for the last time, and Amanda ignored them, too.
She just wanted to stay alone for a bit, sort of her thoughts, calm down her feelings. Rick still wanted to have a talk. They'd promised to each other in the funeral home, they had. But Amanda was getting an inkling it still wasn't going to be easy.
Everything—everything—
I'm still trying…
She moved toward the farthest corner to find some solitude, but before she could, she heard the footsteps, light and faint. She slanted a look over her shoulder and saw Carol following her.
Amanda stopped in front of the corner and waited. Carol joined her a few seconds later. "This was a stupid idea—" the older woman said, "We should've just left."
"Maybe—" Amanda replied with a shrug. "But Rick's got a point," she went on, repeating his words. "If we're going to live with them, we need to show…the effort."
Carol gave her a small smile. It was a kind one, a gentle one, but knowing the woman, it only made Amanda alert. "We play the Good Samaritan again, huh?" At the words, Amanda scowled, trying to keep her temper in check. Carol shook her head again. "You're still mad at me, are you? For what I did in the prison?"
Her eyes snapped up to the woman. "Sometimes I—I can't even believe myself that I could do…that," Carol said with a small voice then, turning her head away from her. Amanda wondered where this conversation was going, so she didn't say anything in return. Carol returned her attention to her. "This—this could be a trap, you know."
Amanda gave another shrug. "Might be," she still admitted. "There's only one way to find out." She paused for a second and gestured with her head and told her what she kept telling Rick. "Besides, beggars can't be choosers."
Carol's clear blue eyes found her and nailed a look at her. "That was what I used to tell myself always," she replied and took a step closer to her. "You either ever going to tell me what happened to Lizzie?"
The question was so direct, so straightforward, Amanda didn't see any point with playing dumb with the other woman. She let out a deep sigh. "Do you really want to know?"
Carol shook her head. "At first, I thought I didn't," the older woman admitted. "But the way you always look at me and Mika together—" The clear blue eyes found hers again. "Sometimes, like Rick, you wear your heart on your sleeve, Officer Shepherd." Amanda couldn't decide it was a compliment or not, so she decided to ignore the words. "What happened, Amanda?" she asked directly this time.
Amanda heaved out a breath again deeply and gave her the answer she'd always given to that question. "Rick and I happened." Carol frowned. Amanda swallowed and started retelling. There was no going back from this, and a part of her felt…relieved, too, as much as she didn't want her to know, as much as she wanted to keep Lizzie's memory as beautiful as it should be, as she talked, Amanda felt…a weight on her, that tightness in her chest leaving her with the words, also.
Her guilt—
"Rick wanted to tell you before Terminus—" she concluded at last. "He said it was his choice, and he was ready to live with its consequences, but I didn't let him."
"Why?"
"I—I didn't want to taint your memories, Lizzie's memories, wanted them to stay that way… I know you loved her as a daughter," she answered then gulping, she continued. "And—and I didn't want to confess, I think. Didn't—want to talk about it."
Carol gave her a tight nod. "I—understand."
"Are—are you mad at him?" Amanda asked in a small voice.
"Are you mad at him?"
Amanda gave out a bitter scoff. "Mad? I was so mad at first—" she said. "So angry, but I still didn't want to leave him," she confessed. "I think—I think a part of me will always stay angry—will never forgive, but—but I—I understand, too."
"Like you will always stay mad at me because I killed two people in cold blood?" Carol asked, almost matter-of-factly. "I also saw your other looks, Amanda."
This time her eyes nailed Carol a look. "It didn't stop the disease," she hissed. "It was pointless, Carol. We still got sick."
Carol, on the other hand, gave her a bitter smile. "Do you think I didn't think of that?" she asked. "You think I hoped everything would magically turn out okay…" She shook her head. "I just could close my eyes and pretend everything would be okay, but I didn't. I knew it might not work, but I still did it. I didn't want to take the risk." She paused for a second before she continued, letting a deep breath. "I was so angry at Rick at first after he banished me, too. So…desperate and so angry. When I found Terminus for a while, I even thought I could stay…just close my eyes and pretend… But then I remembered the prison, what I did… Rick told me he was wrong to send me away, but what he did…it saved a part of me, too." She paused again. "Lizzie—I knew something wasn't right with her," she made her own confession too. "A part of me already knew. I spent weeks with them, heard—saw… I knew something wasn't right, but didn't want to admit it."
"It wasn't right—" Amanda opposed, shaking her head even though she wasn't sure what she was rejecting now. Carol's murders, Lizzie, Rick or herself… She just didn't know anything anymore…
"No—" Carol said. "But—but you see, Rick—he's right even when he's wrong."
With that, the older woman turned and walked away.
# # #
Her head rose from the gears inside the music box, and Beth watched as Amanda paced agitatedly in front of the broken wooden door, her eyes checking outside, alert and wary like a wild animal, like a caged wild animal. Her hands went over her shoulders a few times, clutching the end of her hair, but for a split second, her fingers still inside through her locks, she stopped, staring outside.
Beth could see her backbone turn rigid as her fingers tightened. Then with a sudden move, she stopped, yanked off a hair tie from her wrist and started pulling her hair up. Beth moved her hands over her own shoulders, too, where the end of her hair brushed over her skin— Pulling off her own tie, Beth started gathering her hair up, also, but suddenly Amanda's hand paused, hesitated—as if she…hesitated—and she waited for as second or so, her back still on them, looking outside, then she started, but not a full ponytail.
This time, Amanda took the front of her hair between her fingers and made it into a half-up high ponytail.
Silently, Beth laughed and pulled her hair up into a full ponytail. Carl slid a look at her. Judith was with Carol and Mika now, and Carl was counting his bullets. Amanda turned on her heel and stalked back at them. She sat in front of them, her long neck bare, smeared with dirt and red, fringes of her hair flickering over her shoulder blades.
None of them made a sound.
Less than half of an hour later, they heard the low, deep rumble of an engine.
# # #
Before the moon rose fully in the sky, they arrived at the town. All alive and counted for. Amanda tried to think of it as a good sign still.
The makeshift bed tucked in the corner of the RV was occupied by Aaron's partner. The man's leg had a wound, and he'd been limping on his good one, his arm draped over the recruiter's. Most of them were fitted in the RV as Abraham took the car with his own people, Riccardo and John, and the priest. Rick was driving, and she took the seat beside. When he saw her new…hair style, he didn't say anything, only gave her a look, then gestured for them to get ready. Amanda didn't know what she'd been expecting—so she let it go, too.
They were going.
We need to get them in.
They had to—they'd stayed too long on the edge, it was time to come back now, she repeated herself all way along.
Aaron was with them in the caravan. The recruiter hadn't wanted to leave his partner's side, and something was telling Amanda it wasn't only because of the partnership. Her gaze moved toward the back as she shifted her head aside, and she saw them sharing a quick kiss. She turned back to face the front in the passenger seat, her eyes darting a side look at Rick. He was keenly focused on the dark road, his eyes intently searching for any trouble.
Subduing a sigh, Amanda started doing the same—turned to look outside—
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the movement before he grasped her hand on her knee. She snapped her head to look at him as Rick still stared at the road—his body slightly arched toward hers in the seat to hold her hand. As he drove, he squeezed her hand.
In answer, Amanda linked her fingers through his.
"Before we go in, I still want to check around—" he stated a few seconds later, their hands still tangled. Amanda nodded. "And there's something else we need to."
Scowling, she twisted aside. "What?"
"I'll show you."
# # #
"Guns—" Amanda remarked in a whisper as Rick brought her towards the woods that flirted with Alexandria's Dream confines. From far away, he could see the darkened shadows of the walls of the town, a twenty foot tall impenetrable metal barricade, or so he hoped.
Beyond that, everything was darkened, unknown, foreign. But he wasn't going to go into this new game unprepared.
"They probably will take our weapons when we enter—" he replied. "I'd feel better if we're not without means to protect ourselves if the need comes," he continued, kneeling at a tree's root that he had found in front of a cabin. The cabin and its yard were littered with trash, junk, and rubbish, deserted. Opening the duffel bag he carried their spare weapons, Rick dropped the handgun they'd confiscated from Aaron in. Theirs were almost out of bullets, but Aaron's wasn't. If they questioned him about what happened to it, Rick was going to feed them some stories.
He started digging at the root, lifting his gaze to Amanda—her long slender neck looking even more graceful with her hair half pinned up. She really looked beautiful, elegant in the moonlight. He gave her a half smile. "Like the new look," he mumbled as he troweled the dirt with his fingers, still looking at her.
She looked—surprised. "You do?" she roughed out.
Rick nodded. "Yeah. Your neck—" he told her. "Looks very…tasteful. I might even have a bite."
With a huff, she rolled her eyes, crouching down beside his knees. "Remember what I said about the PDAs, Rick?"
He laughed, his fingers still digging in the earth. "Yeah, can only suck you in the places no one but me can see—" Her hands as they joined them to help him for the task shivered for a second.
She bowed her head quickly, but Rick could see a blush raised her cheeks even under the moonlight. Rick let out a little sigh. "I—I hope you're right about this place, Amanda—" he said after he finished digging and put the gun inside the hole they'd made, darting a look over his shoulder toward where the town lay. "Because I really can't wait, either."
"Can't wait for what?"
Rick turned to her and gave her another smirk. "To spend a whole night with you in the same room. Alone." She swallowed lowly as he covered up the bag, catching up with him. "Remember?"
She blushed further, bowing her head before she mumbled another yeah. Taking her elbow, he drew them up. He cupped the side of her neck gently and brought her closer for a kiss, but instead of going for her lips, he softly brushed his lips against her cheek. "C'mon, let's go," he nudged her, urging her forward as she looked at him, stupefied.
Rick then decided he was going to have her let her hair down—in the bed. Was going to stroke his fingers through her hair as he slowly stroked himself inside her—gently, without haste, without urgency, taking his sweet time like he wanted, like he dreamed…make love to her…not in the woods, not over fallen leaves anymore or over a vanity table, but in a real bed.
If—if they could manage to get there, that was it. His eyes rose and found the impeccable line of shadows.
Alexandria.
A life of sustainability.
Well, they were going to see.
Pulling Amanda at his side, Rick tugged her hand in his, and they started walking.
# # #
Beneath the moonlight, Alexandria's protective barricade looked even more majestic. They closed in toward the main gate. Amanda thought it was supposed to be an access gate with a security cabin before the turn to allow entry inside the town. The barrier was taken out, and in its place a rolling bed mechanism that slid a massive chain link door had been installed. It was covered with thick tarp canvas that prevented to see what lay behind. Behind the canvas, there was a flicker of light inside the security cabin which housed the watches now.
Above the gate, there was a watch post on a four-beamed platform. A man with a sniper rifle targeted at them was at the post, and he called out to his fellow resident. "Oi! Aaron!" He had a brash voice, holding a…excitement inside. "Is that you?"
On the platform, neither of them could see the night watchman clearly, but apparently, the man couldn't see them any better, either. "Yeah, Spencer. It's me, Aaron. We're back. We got company, too."
"Yeah—I can see that—" the answer came hesitantly. "How many did you bring?"
"Well, that's a question—" Aaron answered. "Why don't call Deanna?"
Judith sleeping in her arms, her plump hand fisted at the side of the neck, clutching her hair over her shoulder blades, Amanda waited. For a second, she almost regretted it—the way Judith searched for her hair to play…the gesture brought her comfort Amanda knew—made the baby girl less…unruly, perhaps even settled her internal clock… then Rick's words found her too… sharing a night together in the same room… She'd gotten so caught up with finding a roof, getting themselves in, what would happen after they managed it had slipped through the cracks of their hard life.
Sometimes… before Maggie…she—she used to think about it—how it would be like living in the same place with him. Not something like a prison or the ramshackle places they had crashed in the woods, but an actual place, a real home; a real room, a real bed, a real pillow, real sheets….
As her heart skipped a beat, Amanda realized it was one of the most terrifying things she could ever think of. Them living in the same house—sharing the same bed—the same…room?
Her pulse started galloping madly as she moved the sleeping baby over to her other shoulder, and her eyes darted at him for a second as he stood there with his right hand propped on the top of the red handled machete at his slightly jutted hip, his jaw squared under his scruffy beard. Amanda saw dirt and blood stains still on his hand, on his face… Sharing the same bed with Rick—
Her thoughts suddenly came to a halt as a grinding sound roughed out in the dark. And—and the gate started moving, sliding on its hinges.
Amanda stared, as beside her, his jaw clenching further, Rick did the same. Her eyes slid to him for another glance, assessing him again another time, for different reasons… He—he quite looked like a man-beast. Inwardly, she snickered. Perhaps they really should've waited until dawn, get themselves clean and proper for the introduction. Arriving in the middle of the night, blood and dirt covered, looking like savages wasn't the way to make good first impressions.
Speaking of which—her attention turned to the gate as it stopped in the hinges. They—they didn't even make an ID challenge!
They arrived almost with two dozen people in front of their gate in the middle of night, and these people opened it to unknown threats without any real questioning. Even without setting a foot inside, Amanda understood why the town needed a sheriff.
Aaron walked through the gate, holding his partner up against his side with one arm, and turning back as they stood on the other side of the gate, the recruiter beamed at them a weak smile.
"Well—" the recruiter said, raising his free arm to the side. "Welcome to Alexandria."
His hand still propped against the machete, Rick gave the men another assessing long look before he finally took a step and started walking. A second later, they all followed him and crossed the threshold.
Around her, she could barely distinguish the dimly lit, neatly lined white houses, the cobblestoned roads, yards with colorful flower beds behind the white picket fences… Everything was quiet, the lights faintly seeping through long windows of the houses behind the porches. There were no sounds of the woods in the night; it was never this quiet in the woods… There were always winds between the leaves or some wild animals stalking… The town…it looked so…peaceful, so…beautiful in idyllic stillness, for a second it felt…wrong.
A shiver passed over her, but tugging Judith closer to her chest, Amanda suppressed it.
They were here now, and they were going to make it. In the end, they always did.
As Rick halted in front of the recruiters, Amanda stopped and stood beside him.
The sequel for this book, On The Edge, is up too. If you enjoyed this book, don't hesitate to leave a comment. I greatly appreciate it. Hope to see you at the sequel.