8:15 PM
The Sanctuary
Fuck. Gavin had just sat down on the love seat in his apartment and taken off his work boots when there was a knock on the door. He'd worked until sunset on the fence and hadn't even showered yet. Sweaty and exhausted, he got his handgun, let it rest at his side, and opened the door a crack to peer through. It was that pretty woman, the one with the son with his hands blackened from work, the boy who wanted to vote.
He opened the door wider and looked left and right down the hallway. "Melissa?" He asked. He tried to remember names by repeating them, but he wasn't sure on this one.
"Marissa," she corrected him. "I know workers aren't allowed upstairs off the factory floor, but I'd hoped – "
"- You aren't a worker. You're a citizen. And you're allowed anywhere you want. I mean, anywhere except uninvited in private quarters or outside after curfew. What's the issue?"
"May I come in please?" she asked.
"We can talk here."
She glanced back toward the balcony. "The Citizens' Pledge says we can bring complaints to the Council if we can't find resolution."
"You can submit your complaint in writing. We'll review it at tomorrow's meeting."
"I'd like to explain it to you. In person."
"That's not how – "
"- It involves one of the council members."
Gavin sighed. He opened his door all the way and invited her in. When he closed the door behind her, she stepped back slightly from him and he apologized for the stench. "I think I sweat through this shirt twice. Haven't had a chance to clean up. Water?"
She shook her head. He pulled out a chair at his two-person table near the counter and gestured for her to sit down, and she shook her head. "Then mind if I do? I've been on my feet all day." Gavin sat in the chair opposite the one he'd pulled out.
She looked nervous. Her eyes were darting around the apartment. "I really want the inventory manager job. The one who keeps track of supplies and adjusts marketplace prices to reflect supply and demand. I have a B.A. in Economics. I used to work as an administrative assistant. I'm a very detailed oriented – "
" – Job applications can be submitted to the box – "
"- I'm not trying to apply to you. I'm trying to explain. José knows how badly I want that job. It's a thirty point managerial bonus, and I have a son to support."
"Tyler?"
"Taylor. You're good with names."
"Apparently not," muttered Gavin.
"The extra twenty points the council raised minimum wage will already let Taylor cut his work-load considerably, but that extra thirty? He wouldn't have to work at all if he didn't want to. He could just be a kid, you know? He's not even thirteen yet. Anyway, I really want the job." She exhaled. "And José knows that. He knows it. And he said if I…you know…serviced him," she flushed, "he'd make sure I got the job."
"Jesus Christ," Gavin muttered. More shit to deal with.
"I said no, I was just going to make the best application I could, and then he told me if I didn't do what he wanted, he'd vote against my application and also convince you to vote against it, too. And he said everything has to be approved 4-1. So, I'm here because I don't want you to vote against it. I mean, unless you honestly don't think I'm the best candidate for the job."
"What did he ask for, exactly?"
"Do I have to say that?"
"I just want to know what I'm dealing with here."
She flushed again. "To go to the furnace room with him and give him a blow job while he played with my breasts. I said no."
"Jesus Christ," Gavin muttered. Why the furnace room? José, like all the councilmembers, had his own quarters. He probably didn't want anyone to see her going upstairs. He rubbed his eyes and let his hand fall to the table. "I assure you your application will be evaluated fairly and honestly and José will have no say in its outcome. This matter will be addressed." He stood. "I'll walk you back down to your tent." The workers slept in tents on the factory floor, in an open area beyond the marketplace. "And once my crew gets the old harem and Negan's quarters renovated, you and your son will have a private room to share in one or the other."
"Really?" she asked in surprise.
"I'll make sure José spends the night locked in a cell until we can have a hearing in the morning. I may need you to testify for the Council."
"Do I have to?"
"He has a right to present his case. And when he does, he's going to give his version of events."
"You don't believe my version?"
"Oh, I believe it. But it would help if you testified. For the record. So, when we remove him from the Council – which I intend to have happen – the decision doesn't appear arbitrary."
She nodded. "Okay then."
He opened the door and escorted her downstairs to her tent, where her son sat inside sharpening a knife. "Hello, Taylor," Gavin said. The former workers were allowed knives now, but not guns, not yet. The guards and supply runners would be given guns once they were trained.
When Marissa was settled, Gavin looked around for José but didn't see him. He asked J. Money, who was on floor watch, if he'd seen the man, and J. Money shook his head. He went to José's quarters, but there was no answer when he knocked. So, he went back downstairs again and made his way down the hallway to the furnace room.
When he tried the door, it was locked from the inside. Gavin fished out his keys and unlocked it. He drew his handgun with one hand and threw the door open with the other, and he found José in there, leaned back against the cinderblock wall near the humming furnace, pants down around his ankles, his left hand down the shirt of a kneeling woman who was sucking him off.
Gavin racked the slide of his gun. Jose's eyes flew open and he startled in place, which caused the woman to slurp away from him. Seeing the stunned expression in José's eyes, she turned, saw Gavin, and scrambled to her feet. Meanwhile, José jerked his pants up and began zipping and buttoning them.
The woman wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"What job did he offer you, Nicole?" Gavin asked her.
"Job?" Nicole replied.
"He didn't offer you a job in exchange for…" Gavin nodded below Jose's waist.
"No. He just offered me three of his own points."
Gavin motioned with his gun. "Get going."
"I'm still getting my points, right?" She looked back at José. "It's not my fault we were interrupted. I damn well better get my points!"
"You'll get your points," Gavin assured her. "Go." When she was out the door, he shut it, his gun still trained on José.
"I wasn't doing anything against the rules!" José insisted. "Everyone has a right to make voluntary trades of goods and services on the secondary market. It's in the contract!"
"Yeah, you made damn sure of that."
"Hey, I paid her well." José buckled his belt. "Three points is two hours of regular work!"
"That exchange might not have been illegal, but extortion is."
"She was willing! There was no threat! No extortion! It was a free exchange!"
"I'm talking about your threat to Marissa to vote against her application. About how you used the threat of your power on the council to try to extort sexual favors from her."
"What?" José asked.
"You know what I'm talking about. Telling her you'd only approve her application if she serviced you."
"I never did any such thing. She came to me! She came to me and offered me a blow job in exchange for that job, and I told her first of all, I didn't have that kind of power, because the council has to vote 4-1 to approve applications, and second of all, that would be unethical. I mean, I told her I'd give her three of my points for a blow job, sure, but not a political favor."
"Uh huh."
"Gavin, I swear to you, on my mother's grave, that's what happened."
"Well, you'll have a hearing tomorrow." He gestured with his handgun again, "Tonight, you're sleeping in one of the cells."
"Do you even have the authority to do that? To just lock people up?"
"We voted on it. It's at the council's discretion to lock up someone for up to 24 hours until a hearing can be organized."
"So, then, it's at my discretion," José pointed to his chest, "to lock you up." He pointed at Gavin.
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be."
José smirked. "You're starting to understand why Negan was Negan, aren't you? It would be so much easier just to burn me with an iron to get me to shut up and submit, wouldn't it? Because right now, it's my authority against yours, and our authority is equal."
"Well, José , see, that's where you're wrong, because I'm holding the great equalizer." Gavin pushed the gun forward slightly. "And that makes me just a little more equal."
"Some pigs are more equal than others, huh?"
"Some pigs are just pigs." Gavin jerked the gun again to gesture toward the door. "Now come on, and don't make a scene, or I will make an example."
José glowered but let Gavin escort him to a cell.
March 27, 2011
9:30 AM
Fun Kingdom
The happy respite in the House of the Future couldn't last long. The morning brought bad news – another loss of life from the infirmary.
Sophia wept for her friend Jody and planted a Dungeons & Dragons figurine in the dirt that marked his grave. Carol put a hand on her shoulder when Sophia rose from her crouched position in the dirt, and then Daryl put a hand over Carol's hand and squeezed.
The cemetery behind the Haunted Castle was far too full of crosses.
Several Woodbury mourners gathered, those who were not in quarantine. Among them was a woman named Kristen, who stood holding the hand of her young niece Eryn while also holding the Wolf cub on her hip. The foundling was now eight months old. The little boy made babbling sounds around the finger he'd stuck in his mouth. Karen and Tyreese had adopted him and named him Darius, but they'd sent him on the school bus with Kristen when they remained behind to fight for their town. Now he was twice orphaned, all before the age of one.
When Sophia wandered from the grave to hug a Woodbury girl named Savannah – the girl Jody had once taken to the movies - Daryl whispered to Carol, "Was gonna hunt this mornin'. With Dixon. You be a'ight without me?"
"You spent a lot of time with Sophia yesterday. And with all these new people with no home to go back to, the more meat we can get, the better. Go. It's my turn to play mommy."
Daryl nodded, slipped from the grave site, and gestured to Dixon, who followed him.
The mourners began to dissipate. Carol walked over to an outer wall of the Haunted Castle where Sophia now sat on a black bench with white, skeletal arms. She eased down beside her daughter.
"I feel so guilty." Sophia told her.
"You have no reason to feel guilty," Carol assured her. "You were protecting Judith. Shane might have hurt her. He wasn't stable."
"Not about that," she said. "I feel guilty because I'm glad it wasn't Patrick or Carl who died this morning. I'm glad it was Jody instead. Does that make me a terrible person?"
Carol wrapped and arm around Sophia and hugged her close. "No, sweetie, no. It doesn't."
"Jody was my friend, too," she said, pulling away from Carol with a sniffle. "It's just, they're more my friends."
"I know."
Sophia let out a puff of air. "I don't feel guilty about Shane anymore. I'm just worried about what Carl will think of me now. He loved Shane. Like an uncle. Do you think Mr. Grimes told him? That it was me?"
Carol wasn't even sure Daryl had told Rick that Sophia was the one to deliver the wounding blow. "I don't know, Sweetie, but if Carl is your friend, he'll understand. Maybe not immediately. But he will."
"We should go do some work or something," Sophia told her. "Is there something we can do?"
Sophia was like Daryl in that regard – throw herself into a task so she wouldn't have to think about the things that bothered her. "There's always something we can do," Carol assured her and rose. "Let's inventory and arrange the Woodbury supplies in the warehouse, the ones they found at Briar Creek Park."
Sophia nodded, and together they set to work.
10:30 AM
The Sanctuary
"Motion to remove José from the council and hold a special election for his replacement," Gavin announced.
They had heard testimony already from Marissa and José. The woman Gavin had caught him with in the furnace room, Nicole, had also been brought in. Now the four other councilmembers were meeting alone, and since every motion had to pass by a vote of four, this would have to be unanimous.
"How do we know she's not lying?" Gordon asked.
"Because he was caught balls deep in Nicole's mouth," Gina said.
"That's not what he's being charged with," Gordon reasoned. "Like it or not, that was a mutual exchange. He's being charged with extorting Marissa. Now, how do we know it didn't happen just like José said? Maybe Marissa came to him with that proposal, knowing what a horny goat he is, and he said it would be unethical, so then she comes up with this idea to go around him, make a false accusation to Gavin, get José thrown off the council, so her application can be approved."
"Come on!" Gina rolled her eyes.
"It's not impossible," Gordon said. "Some women do use sex to try get things from men in power. Like Negan's wives. They wanted the easy life, so they were happy to spread their legs for it."
Gavin slammed the table hard with his fist, and it shuddered. Gina jumped in place.
"It works better with a baseball bat," Gordon told him coolly.
Gavin inhaled and then exhaled. He closed his eyes and then opened them. "You have a misconception about how Negan recruited most of his wives," Gavin said thinly. "And what they went through. And what their choices were as they saw them."
"Maybe," Gordon conceded. "I wasn't exactly in Negan's inner circle like you. But that's neither here nor there when it comes to this accusation. We're in a he said, she said situation."
"Why would Marissa try to buy her way into the job?" Gavin slid Marissa's application across the table toward Gordon. "Read it. She's perfect for the job."
Gordon read over the application. He nodded. "I certainly wouldn't suck off José for his vote if I had these credentials."
"What did you two know of him, by reputation, prior to this?" asked Laura, looking from Gina to Gordon.
"Nothing much," Gordon replied. "Most of the workers never really knew each other. We didn't have pow-wows around the campfire at night, play cards and sing kumbaya. We lived in fear. We kept to ourselves, to our small groups of family or friends from before the Sanctuary, and we kept our heads down. The people who voted for José for council probably didn't know him from Adam either. They just knew he was one of the first two people to step forward. They voted for him because they thought he had balls."
"Well, we all know he's got balls," Gina said. "And what he likes to do with them. I'm in favor of removal."
"So am I," Gavin said.
"I am, too," Laura agreed.
Gordon pulled the application closer toward himself. "Sure, I'm in favor of removal," he said to Gavin's surprise. "Whether or not he did what Marissa claimed, I don't want a whoremonger on the Council. It makes him ripe for blackmail, especially if he's into anything kinky. And pillow talk isn't exactly good for security either if we have to discuss sensitive matters. But what's the penalty for extortion? Because before I say a man is guilty of something, I'd really like to know what I'm sentencing him to."
"Punishments are to be determined by Council," Laura said. "By a minimum vote of four."
"So…without saying he's guilty yet," Gordon ventured, "what punishment would this council propose, if he were to be found guilty?"
"Two weeks in solitary," Gina said. "Bare sustenance rations, and no pay."
"Too extreme," Gordon said. "Solitary will madden a man."
"Fine," Laura said.
"You think it's fine?" Gordon asked.
"No, a fine. We punish him with a fine. It's the most efficient way and the easiest to administer. A fine and removal from office. It's enough to send a message."
"Sixty points," Gina said.
"That's an entire week's pay!" Gordon exclaimed. "He wouldn't be able to eat. You're a real hard ass, you know that?"
"He can spread out the payment," Gina reasoned. "Ten points a week for six weeks."
Gordon shook his head. "I could see my way to finding him guilty for a fine of twenty points to be paid over four weeks."
"I don't think this is how this is supposed to work," Laura said.
"Just let it work," Gavin told her.
"Forty points," Gina insisted. "To be paid over eight weeks."
"Thirty points over ten weeks," Gordon countered.
"Too lenient!" Gina exclaimed.
"Hey," Gordon told her. "Think about it. That's a fine of ten blowjobs. If you want to hit him where it really hurts."
Gina chuckled and shook her head. "Thirty-five points over seven weeks," she said, "And I'll finally let you buy me that drink at the marketplace you keep asking to buy me. This evening after work."
"That's extortion," Gordon told her, but he smiled. "All right, sold." He slapped the table with his hand like he was lowering an auctioneer's hammer.
"Motioned," Gavin said, "That this council finds José guilty of extortion of sexual favors in exchange for political influence, with the penalty to be permanent removal from office and a fine of thirty-five points over seven weeks. All in favor?"
All four hands went up. Laura made a note of the finding. "Now we just need to hold a special election to replace him. And then we can get back to the other twenty-seven items on our agenda."
4 PM
Fun Kingdom
"Watch for my broadhead," Daryl told Dixon. "Couldn't find it when I pulled out the bolt."
Dixon nodded as he positioned the slain elk belly-up on a slope with its head elevated. "Hold the hind legs for me."
"Keep watch," Daryl told Daisy, who barked and assumed a vigilant stance. At least the dogs didn't seem to get this sickness. Carl had brought his puppy with him from Woodbury when they all came on the bus, and Patrick had been playing with it half the time, but even it was doing well. Today, Daisy's canine beau Max was keeping guard at the front gate of Fun Kingdom. They always had a man, 24/7, on the castle tower slides, but not always at the gate. Sometimes Max was their man at the gate. But he would bark ferociously into the baby monitor if he ever saw trouble. Of course, one time that trouble turned out to be a raccoon. Too bad Max hadn't been on guard when Morales brought that truck in. He might have hit on the scent of the RPGs.
Daryl shouldered his bow and helped hold the deer in place. When he was field dressing alone, he secured the carcass by wedging rocks or woods under the ribcage, but it was a lot easier doing this with Dixon. He didn't mind having a hunting partner anymore.
"I've never killed an elk before," Dixon said as he cut up the midline. "It was illegal to hunt them in North Carolina."
"Here in Georgia, too," Daryl said. "Population's too small. But there ain't no huntin' laws anymore. Just got to be conservative. Make sure we don't overharvest them. Since it's just us out here…think that ain't gonna be a problem."
"Well, us and the walkers," Dixon said as he began to cut the diaphragm. "Though they can only pick off the slow and sickly ones. Or herd them out of their grounds." He cut the windpipe. "How much boneless meat do you think this will yield?"
"Hundred and eighty maybe."
Dixon whistled. "Three times a deer! Beth's going to be impressed. We're going to need to plug in another freezer! Oh, here's your broadhead." Dixon handed it to him.
Once the elk was field dressed, they got it situated on a drag sled and each threw a rope over a shoulder and put all their weight into pulling. "Fuck this is heavy," Daryl muttered. "Even field dressed."
Daisy followed behind the elk, alert for walkers and ready to sound the alarm if one should emerge from the trees and come for their kill.
"Let's just get it to the edge of the woods at the parking lot," Dixon suggested, "and then I'll go get the pick-up truck so we can drive it through the lot and through Fun Kingdom to the butcher's table. You think they've heard anything from Terminus?"
"Dunno," Daryl said. He didn't like thinking about it, people dying in that train station, maybe even children dying. Most likely even children dying. They'd done what they could, though, without risking their own people. He had to wash his hands clean of the rest of it.