Chapter 53
A Walk and a Talk
The days blurred together. I lost track of how many flew by and I had no idea what was going on in the factory anymore. Every once in a while, I was alerted by movement outside, but it was usually just Frankie or my guard dropping off a meal before leaving promptly.
Once or twice, I rearranged the furniture in the room, just to do something different for a while and to get a bit of exercise. By what I assumed was about the fourteenth day of confinement, I had exhausted all the reading material and the few G-rated movies that were in the room. Additionally, I had read and reread almost every page in Vanessa's book of Shadows. A few of the spells I attempted to perform, yet like the ghosts, there seemed to be no reaction from the magic I had once wielded.
A lot of the spells were written in code or runes I hadn't learned yet. Trying to encrypt them proved completely unsuccessful and the ones that I could perform offered no results.
Maybe I wasn't growing out of my powers; maybe I was just losing them.
There was no denial that I was so much weaker than I used to be. When I was freer, I had been sustained by nature and gem energy. Even the energy I gained from the people I was surrounded by played some part in the magic I honed. And now… now I had nothing. Only a pit of despair.
Most days I just wanted to give up; I thought I was going to. It certainly felt like I had.
Negan was just going to keep me shut up forever until I died.
That was my initial thought most days, until one morning I woke up with an unexpected burst of energy.
No, I wasn't going to just waste away in here! I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life just rotting like that asshole wanted me to. What the hell was I doing? What the hell was I even thinking? What on earth would make me just give up like this?
No! No, I was stronger than that! I was better than that!
Throwing the blankets off of me, I got up, and dressed in a casual shirt and shorts; my typical attire.
Negan wasn't important enough in my life to make me care what he thought of me. He didn't mean anything! I wasn't going to let him control my life like this. It was high time I got off of my ass and started doing something!
Looking around my room, I examined the door. I hadn't touched it in weeks. The only times I ventured beyond it was when the guard came by to escort me to the bathroom. Predictably, there was probably someone on the other side.
That wouldn't do.
The window then.
The long band stretching across the furthest wall was large, but too high for me to reach without help. A chair then! But even that wasn't tall enough. So, I grabbed some books and used them for a footstep while I worked up on my stomach atop the wardrobe. From there I had my first glimpse outside in weeks.
It looked like I had a nice view of the courtyard behind the main building and even more property that compiled the factory. It looked like there was a whole lot the main entrance seemed to hide and what I had initially assumed were the boundaries, hadn't even brushed the full size of this place. There were garages, additional warehouses, walled off areas that seemed to grow fields of crops, and sheds holding animals.
It was almost larger than our whole town and by the number of things being raised here, it stood to reason that all this it should have been enough to maintain the whole factory population.
Why the hell did they need to steal from other people if they were growing their own shit? Fucking assholes!
My attention turned just then towards movement. It was a convoy coming back from another raid. I watched, practically transfixed at the sight of the outside and all the small people below. It was nothing I hadn't seen before, but watching it all after so long with nothing to view was like watching a movie I had been desperate to see for so long.
I recognized the man leading it all as Gavin, another of Negan's generals but someone we rarely ever came in contact with. It looked like they were returning from the Kingdom with their stolen loot and the majority of their tribute were some crates of fruit and dead pigs.
The Saviors busied themselves with distributing it and when the trucks were empty they rolled out to garages and the activity below dispersed to a few lone stragglers. My eyes squinted curiously, wondering if maybe I'd be able to study the habits of these few people and distinguish a pattern.
If I could do that, then maybe there would be an opportunity to run when I had the chance.
Run?
The idea took me aback.
Was I thinking of making a break for it then? Of getting so permanently far away? What about the deal?
I glowered angrily. Negan wasn't holding up his end, why on earth did I need to hold up mine? All he'd done since I got there was treat me like total crap.
I wasn't going to take this anymore. I was going to take control. I was going to stand up. I was going to be strong again.
And the first thing I needed was some information. Even if all I could do was watch, at least it was a start.
I passed the next few days staring out the window, studying the people down below and taking notes on their habits around the factory. The guard rotations were something that really interested me. I began to notice that not all of them were very punctual. A fair good deal of them were pretty honorable to their required shifts, but there were a few that felt no urge to uphold their scheduled rotations.
It was funny to watch at times. The ones that were punctual tended to get angry at the late ones, and at times there were arguments that broke out, once even a full-blown fist fight that I could witness from my window.
It had been nice to watch them fighting each other. Hilarious in a way. Maybe there was a way to crumble this tower from the inside out.
During a moment when I had been taking excessive notes on the changes I could see outside, I jumped when the door swung opened suddenly. Hastily, I shoved the pen and notebook behind the curtain of the window and tried to look a bit less guilty for being on top of the wardrobe, with little luck. Blankly, I looked back at the guard that had been assigned to me while she stared right back.
"What the hell do you think you're doing up there?!" She demanded angrily.
"I'm looking outside!" I snapped back. "You people gave me a room with a window I'm too short to look out of and it's really annoying!"
"Well get the hell down from there!"
Angrily, I obeyed, leaving my notebook where it was hidden. While I climbed from my spot, I wondered what this visit was for. It was too early for my trip to the bathroom and Frankie just delivered my lunch, still on the table and hardly touched again today.
"Get dressed!" The guard ordered.
"Why?" I asked indignantly. My punishment wasn't up. I knew for a fact that it hadn't been a month yet. So, why were they taking me out early?
"The doctor needs you."
"What for? Someone got bit?" Maybe it was Negan! If that was the case I'd take my time.
"Just hurry your ass up and get something. You've got thirty seconds. Not done by then, I'm bringing you down as you are."
So much for stalling.
I grabbed the first clothes I saw, changing out of the pajamas I wore almost constantly, and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt. We'd just about made it out the door before the guard backtracked into the room, remembering something just then. Grabbing the scarlet cloak from the corner it was discarded, she threw it over to where I caught it. Grumpily, I put the thing on and we left.
It felt odd to be out of the room. Odd to walk around and be seen by people once again. I felt their eyes on me as I walked behind the woman and shrunk in my shoes. I hated this. I thought I had wanted to be out of the room, but now that I was, I felt claustrophobic and embarrassed. Why did I have to wear this thing? This cloak that pointed me out to everyone and was just as much a mark of shame as it was a collar.
As much as I wanted to walk with my head held high, I instinctually felt myself shrinking up to avoid anyone's gaze.
When we finally made it to the infirmary I breathed in relief to be behind closed doors once again.
There were three saviors in different beds all with wounds that I recognized as walker bites. The doctor merely pointed to my usual bed the moment he saw me, already prepared with the blood machine. Silently, I took my place and spread out on the surface, offering my arm.
The doctor had to do a doubletake as his eyes fell on how thin I'd gotten over the past few weeks.
"What the hell?"
Despite his shock, he still inserted the needle while simultaneously doing a hasty check up on me. First thing he did was weigh me and the results apparently appalled him to gasp before he moved on to the rest. I didn't bother fighting it and allowed him to examine me with his usual array of tools, shining the flashlight in my eyes and ears, knocking his reflex hammer against my joints, listening to my heartbeat, and making me say "Ahh" while he examined my mouth.
The session was not long and in hardly fifteen minutes, I was entirely drained. The doctor looked back at my weakened expression and turned to my guard accusingly.
"She's already this tired? And she's lost weight again! The time in her room was supposed to build her body mass a little but it looks like she's barely over fifty pounds. Haven't you been making sure she eats?"
"Look, it's not my job to shove food down her throat." The woman said defensively. "I just bring it to her and stand outside to make sure she's not kidnapped or tries to run away. The rest is up to Frankie, so take it up with her.
The doctor shook his head angrily. "And I'll bet you let her wallow in depression, too, no doubt. Jesus, now I have to start all over again!"
The guard looked indignant about the direction of his anger and puffed up to her full height. "Hey, it's not my problem if some little brat wants to starve herself."
The doctor's reaction was far from understanding. He stepped right up to her, getting in her face and looking mad with fury as he spoke dangerously.
"Oh yes it fucking is your problem. This is our one shot at this. This is the blood that saves your fucking life if you ever find yourself bit out there, and since this job is too complicated for you to do correctly, I guess you'll need something a little simpler from now on." He straightened his coat and took a step towards his desk, where he made a note on some paper. "You did better out on the runs with Marco, so I'll have a little talk with Negan and see that you're transferred maybe time at an outpost will do better for you. It shouldn't be hard for us to find someone else more qualified for this position anyways."
The woman looked like she'd been slapped, and clearly disliked the way this had turned out for her. She proceeded to flush with fury though she made no argument to save herself. It looked like if it was decided by the doctor, then it was just the same as being said by Negan and no amount of negotiations were going to change his mind. The woman turned on her heal and headed for the door without another word.
Before leaving, the doctor called to her back, "Oh, and when you find him, tell Negan this isolation shit is over already. The work I'm in the middle of is more important that his fucking pride. If she's going to be difficult, he can vent his frustrations out on that hillbilly whipping boy we've got for her. But the abuse on her is over once and for all."
The woman made a low growl and left through the door without so much as a glance back. The doctor merely turned back to me, making more notes on his ever-present clipboard. "I take it from your lack of verbal objection that you don't mind being reassigned a new guard?" though he made no glance towards me, it was clear I was the one he was speaking to. "I hope you weren't too attached to her."
I only snorted. "Like it makes any difference. You're all the same person to me, you just wear different faces. Right, Negan?"
The doctor appeared undisturbed by the comment and only made another note on his clipboard. "Well your energy is returning at least. Here. Eat something already. I don't want to see you passing out. Do it yourself so I don't have them shoved down your throat." He pushed a plate of honey glazed cookies and cider towards me. Grudgingly, I began to nibble on them, hating that they tasted good.
Eventually, I found myself snoring lightly on the cushioned exam table before being jolted awake.
I yawned and gazed blearily around the dimly lit room. The men on the surrounding beds were sound asleep, two with sheets of sweat on their faces. The doctor wasn't able to take a whole lot of plasma from me, conscious that draining me dry would be just as lethal to me as their bites were to them so perhaps he had withheld the healthy amount from them.
I looked over at them apathetically, hopeful that they would die. Three less men on their side, three more for the horde.
My eyes drifted to some cuffs connecting the bed frames to their wrists, a precaution just in case my hopes were granted. Heart monitors beside them beeped away, kindly indicating their maintained lives while they slept fitfully. It looked like the doctor was taking no chances with them.
Pity.
I got up from the exam table and stretched, feeling better to be out of that god-awful room, at last. At that moment, I also noticed I really needed to pee.
Was there a bathroom on this level? The only two I'd ever seen were the wives' and the empty public one my guard, or ex-guard, had brought me to during my imprisonment.
I didn't expect there to be only two bathrooms in this massive factory so there was probably one that should have been nearby. Should I wait for someone to take me? Where was the doctor at this hour? Ah hell, I'd find it myself. Couldn't be far and if the Doctor's orders had any merit to them, it looked like my days of imprisonment were over at last.
I stole out of the room and wandered a bit through the empty halls till I came across a sign that told me what I was looking for. Once done with my business, I left the room, but on the way back I got lost. Somewhere around the bend I mistook a door I thought would open back into the infirmary for one that took me outside. Without intent, I found myself blinking in bright moonlight. A chill breeze blew in my face and I stared in awe at the darkness surrounding me.
For a moment I forgot how to breathe. I was outside! After weeks and weeks, I could breathe fresh air once again, and it was spectacular.
My feet took me all the way into the courtyard, pulled deeper into the night like listening to a siren's song. Gods around me, I missed this! It felt like I had just been jolted with a new burst of energy while I stood there in the dark and surrounded by actual fresh air. But it wasn't all that fresh. There was still the scent of death brought on by the aroma of the dead bodies suspended against the fences.
Just then, I took in the loneliness of the night. Where was the guard for this part of the factory? I looked up, spotting a long band of glass above that look fairly similar to the window from that bedroom I stayed in. Was this then the courtyard I had been looking down on for the past few days?
I turned around in the middle of the yard, facing where the guard was expected to be for his rotation. But he wasn't there.
Now I remembered this one. He didn't act particularly serious about his patrols, nor his punctuality for them.
He was late, again.
My heart stopped just then. A momentary bolt of madness overtook me just then as a impulsive thought came to me. What if the doctor couldn't convince Negan that I shouldn't be locked up again? What if he just makes everything worse and I'm punished even more?
This… this was my only chance! I couldn't go back to the room again. I couldn't be locked up again. I couldn't!
Spinning around towards the fence, my heart leapt into my throat while I sprinted. Climbing anything—tree, iron gate or chain-linked fence was child's play for me. I was up it in hardly three seconds. The few bound dead that had me within arm's reach parted and dodged away the moment I had touched ground.
I looked forward and swerved around the obstacles till I broke free from the moat. My feet sped me into the forest, feeling instant elation within the undercover of foliage and the sweet smell of the trees just before they turned for the fall.
My heart pounded in my throat and I swallowed hard, wetting my mouth as I sprinted in the forest. I passed several walkers in my haste and a few jerked away from me, but I just kept my eyes forward, concentrating on the path laid out. I needed to get as much distance between me and the Sanctuary as I possibly could.
I wasn't going back this time! I wouldn't! They couldn't make me!
But where was I going to go then?
Alexandria was out of the question. Hilltop and the Kingdom both knew who I was but they more than likely wouldn't take me in. Negan would have made sure of it. My only option was the Island.
Dad could visit me and he could take turns with Enid on bringing me what I needed. But was that much better? I'd be a prisoner there too. I'd never be allowed to leave, I'd just turn into a hermit the same way Carol had done. Was it even fair to put that much responsibility on them? What if they were followed one day? Even if I could stay there for my whole life, it was so close to Alexandria, eventually the Saviors would find it and loot the place just as they did with all the land surrounding their domain. And I'd be back to where I started.
My mind searched for alternative options. Many came to mind, but they all ended with me living alone as an outcast one way or another, or running so far away I'd never see the Saviors or even anyone I ever grew up with ever, ever again.
I gradually slowed to a stop, panting hard as I tried to catch my breath. My vision was blurry and my heart pounded like a base drum in my ears. I swallowed repeatedly, fruitlessly trying to get rid of the dryness in my mouth, but every breath felt like sandpaper scraping down my raw throat.
Eventually, I crouched where I was, bringing my knees up as I tried to calm down. Slowly… slowly, I began to realize it was all pointless and I questioned angrily on what I had intended in the first place.
The hope of running away and hiding forever was all pointless. I knew deep down that none of that mattered. Daryl was still back at the Sanctuary, being abused and tormented. For this escape Negan would take it out on him in whatever way he wanted to. And when he was bored of that he'd turn to Alexandria and punish any other innocent citizens he wanted. Every minute I was away was another minute Daryl was probably being tortured by those monsters even more.
Maybe if I turned around now and went back of my own volition he'd go easy this time. Maybe he'd just bruise me up a bit and lock me in my room for a few more days, despite what the doctor had ordered. But even that mild punishment filled me with new terror. He only let me out to save those men that were bitten, but the moment they improved he'd throw me right back into my room, again. He was the one in charge, not Dr. Carson. If he wanted to imprison me for the rest of my life, he was able to. I didn't think I'd have the strength to be trapped in there for another second. It was too much to bear!
And I didn't think I could stand anymore abuse from him, whether physical, verbal or emotional. That was the whole reason I had run away in the first place. I just didn't know if I had the courage to go back.
Stupid. I jaded myself inwardly. What'll you do? You can't go home, he'll find you there. You can try hiding but he'll just hurt people till you come out. He'll hurt the ones you love the most, too.
Daryl…
Stupid, selfish, little girl! You think you've got it bad. Your uncle's been stuck there for three years, being tortured, starved, neglected and brainwashed. You don't know what bad is. You're so selfish! You're so blind!
Right then, I understood what my only option could ever be. With a heavy heart, I picked my sorry ass up and turned on the spot, trudging back towards where I came.
I hadn't run for very long yet was still was surprised by how far I had gotten. When the black outline of the towers to the Factory came into view over the tree tops, I just about lost all nerve and turned to run away once again. I must not have been gone as long as I thought, though, because it was somehow strangely quiet. A small flicker of hope woke inside me as I held out that maybe no one had noticed I was gone after all.
The climb up the fence seemed to be much harder this time than when I'd done it to get out, not because of the bodies, but because the brief burst of energy I had gained when the night air hit me was beginning to wear off and it was agony returning to this hellhole moments after I had just about been freed of it.
Hopefully, sneaking back to the infirmary wouldn't take too long.
"Realized your leash doesn't go very far, huh?"
Spinning around, my instincts were on high alert as I saw someone coming out of the shadows and approach me. It was only mildly better to see Dwight standing there rather than Simon or Negan himself. He was better than either of those two, but he was still one of Negan's top men and I shook where I was, fearing whatever he was about to do in retaliation to my mad dash.
He materialized from the black void, frowning and puffing on a cigarette. I gulped down a large wad of fear as I took in the burned half of his face and how it looked that much more disfigured and harrowing in the darkness.
"You—you saw me leave?!" I stuttered, feeling panicked once again.
"Sure did."
I took in the quietness of the night and wondered why there wasn't a larger commotion, if what he'd said was actually true. "Why didn't you raise the alarm and come after me?"
He took a drag of the stick in his mouth and blew out a thin trail of smoke while he responded coolly. "Didn't think you'd be able to make it that far on your little legs. And I was curious to see how long you were going to run until you wised up and came back here."
It was galling to know that he was just as aware of my situation as I was. He knew even better than me that running would be completely useless, not to mention dangerous for so many different reasons. My head bowed in defeat as the man continued.
"I was a little worried at first. But you're much smarter than many people give you credit. If you ran and didn't look back, Negan would have hunted you down to the ends of the Earth. And when he found you again, he'd make you wish you were dead, if you don't already at least, but not before everyone you ever cared about was swinging on their own noose one by one outside your window."
I couldn't stop from flinching at the image. Seeing all the people I knew, dead-eyed gnashing teeth and lifeless faces hanging by ropes as they reached out in hunger for anything or anyone to devour, was far too painful to bear.
My mouth went dry and I trembled as I asked my next question to the man. "Are… are you going to tell Negan that I ran?"
There was a long pause as Dwight took another drag of his cigarette. "Nah… what would be the point, really? Especially if you're back here to begin with? Sides which, Negan would probably be more pissed off that I didn't raise the alarm the very fucking moment you cleared the tree line. I'd have my ass handed to me just as much as you would."
"So, what?" I scoffed in disbelief. "This is our secret then?" I wasn't quite sure why, but I disliked having mutual secrets between Saviors, but if there was no way either of us would benefit from exposure, then it was probably best to just keep it quiet.
He shrugged. "If you want it to be. It's really up to you, I guess."
Pretending like I had a choice was crap. Of course, I wasn't going to tell him! I wasn't an idiot.
"Screw him!" I hissed.
He nodded, sticking his cigarette once more between his lips. "That's what I thought, you'd say." Then he reached out to turn me around. "Now come on. I'll walk you to your room."
"Don't touch me!" I snapped angrily, stepping away from his outstretched hand before it made contact with my shoulder. "I'll get there by myself!" I left him there alone and headed for an entrance, marching away to find the infirmary.
It had hurt me to come back here. It hurt to be behind these walls once again. Not hurt in my heart, oh woe is me, it hurt me physically to be there. I felt actual pain while I walked within this prison. It had been so brief, but I had been outside. I had felt the air and smelt trees and leaves and water and dirt and all kinds of other things. It had been an explosion of senses. To see the stars twinkling above me. To hear the sounds of the nocturnal animals like owls and bats screeching in the night. Even seeing the walkers swaying in their lifeless strolls had been liberating. All I had wanted to do was dive right into the trees, roll around on the ground and then curl up somewhere, blanketed by shrubbery and fallen leaves.
And the wind. Feeling it cool my burning face while I ran and ran, had been glorious. Even through my desperation, it had totally been worth it.
The infirmary eventually opened up to me and I entered silently watching just as the doctor was pulling away an icepick, stained red, from one of the men's heads.
There were now only two steady monitors beeping away. Well at least one of them had kicked it. I inwardly crossed my fingers that another wouldn't see the dawn.
"And where did you run off to?" Dr. Carson inquired at my entrance.
"I had to pee." I told him bluntly. "And I got lost on the way back. Found a door outside and I went for a walk."
"And now your back."
"Apparently." I grumbled, my fists shoving into my jean pockets while I walked towards the exam table I had occupied before my brief respite.
The doctor came forward and pushed more food in my hands once I was seated. This time lentil soup with some bits of ham and a biscuit.
"Eat it all." He demanded.
I didn't fight it, but that didn't make it easier to do. Having a full stomach just didn't feel right somehow. How could someone hate being satisfied?
The doctor turned back to the men in the beds.
"You must be pleased with yourself." He noted casually, scribbling more notes on his clipboard.
I swallowed up the food in my mouth before responding. "Why do you say that?"
"One of these men just died. Wasn't that your intention?"
"I didn't kill them." I shrugged, unaffected by the idea.
"No, but you did want them dead, no?"
"…What I want wasn't what killed them."
"No, he died from extended exposer to biter infection and no access to the required dose of curative plasma."
"How is that my fault?" I asked, glaring at the man's back.
"You're refusing to take proper care of yourself." He accused with disapproval. "And that happens to affect others, which I'm sure you knew. In this case, I wasn't able to extract the proper amount to save these men. Unfortunately, I was forced to make a decision; I could have divvied up the pathetic amount of plasma I was able to extract and let them all die with only the bare minimum of plasma, or I had to prioritize one over the others and choose between them who was going to be saved. Guess which one I had to do."
I didn't bother answering. I knew what he chose. His mission was to make me feel guilty for it, but I wasn't; not one bit.
"Well if this is the only way I can kill you monsters, this is the way I'll do it." "I said to him vindictively, not even denying the doctor's suspicions. "Maybe next time you all should be more careful."
The doctor's fist came down on the side table, making me jump as he was suddenly right by my bed, angry now.
"This is no joke!"
"I wasn't joking." I fired back at him. "I know war isn't a joke and if this is the only way I can fight you people then this is how I'll fight! I don't get why you would ever think I'd try to save any of your lives after what you did to the lives of all the other people you enslaved or murdered in cold blood. Men and boys who were totally unarmed while their sisters, mothers, and wives were forced to watch you people gun them down on their knees. And those weren't even people that I knew! You're all cowards, and you deserve to die alone and forgotten! So, I'm going to do my part to help along the way, however I can!"
The doctor stared back at me, his expression veiled by the glare of light on his glasses, so I continued just as viciously.
"Stop trying to make me feel guilty for the lives that die behind these walls." I hissed at him. "They're all just another piece of Negan and everyone with that name that dies is one more piece of him I don't ever have to look at again."
The doctor remained silent for a moment before turning and rolling his chair over, taking a seat while he faced me. "Not everyone here believes in what he stands for." The man informed calmly. "Some of us have no choice. Just like you and the rest of your people. We're not here because we wanted to be. A lot of us don't have a say in anything that goes on here."
"You support them." I pointed out angrily. "You provide for them. You fucking heal them!"
"And if I didn't then I'd be no use otherwise. If I didn't do my job, they'd kill me. Easy as that. There's no other option for a lot of us. We don't have the luxury of picking ourselves up and just leaving it all behind, which you know perfectly well. A lot of us don't have the survival skills necessary to last more than a week out there and we don't have magic blood that keeps lurkers from attacking us. Here they give us a job and we have a choice to do it, or we guard the grounds as one of those dead sentries. We're not irreplaceable, not like you."
My mouth flattened into a tight angry line while he went on.
"It's a good idea not to make friends in this place." He commended without emotion. "They'd just end up stabbing you in the back when the time suited them. But we all still have a quota to make. I save their lives to save my own. If I didn't work my absolute hardest to achieve that, they'd know. How long do you think I'd last here once they figured that out?"
Again, I refused to respond to his question, both of us already knowing the answer anyways.
"You want to fight them at every turn, I understand that. Hell, I can even admire it. I know you don't value your life the way you ought to, but consider what could be done to your uncle." His voice somehow changed and took on a strangely dark tone. "I don't like making threats, that's Negan's job after all, but if you need to be carefully monitored from now on, then fine. Any meal you don't eat is another meal I'll personally make sure Daryl doesn't receive. And that'll make things a lot worse for him since he needs every bit of food he's given for the workload they've got him on."
The doctor stood just then, the glare from his glasses leaving as he looked down on me crossly. "So, finish your food from now on."
With those final words he turned his back on me and walked over to the men's beds.
Glaring down at the bowl of half-eaten soup, I considered it angrily before reluctantly pushing another spoonful into my mouth.
Author's notes: Woah! It has been so long since I updated. I've been a little busy for the past few weeks with the Farmer's Market in my town, so I haven't had a whole lot of time to write. I've been running a little booth selling and commissioning painted rocks and it's been going very well. I've had to stop though, because I'm starting a new job in a few days and I had to make sure I was available for any hours they needed me for.
So not too much going on with Judy, but the doctor has apparently revealed himself to be an adversary almost as fierce as Negan. Judith is going to have to be extra cautious around him now.
Not much left for me to say now so I guess I'll go ahead and say, adieux!
Luv ya guys lots and please don't forget to leave a review!