The engine of Daryl's motorcycle rumbled as he put his feet on the ground, walking them until the bike came to a full stop.
Eve's hands pressed down on his shoulders as she lifted herself off the bike and the subtle 'shing' of newly sharpened blades permeated the quiet air at the front of an old grain warehouse that lay halfway between Woodbury and the Prison.
Daryl revved the engine a few times as the other car drove up behind them before he parked, hoping to draw out any walkers that were nearby but nothing, so he grabbed his crossbow as Rick got off the car.
There's no sign of any other cars or anyone else being here, with any luck they've arrived first, but even Carl would know better than to take that on faith.
Eve nodded at Hershel who was driving, and he got his gun ready.
She spun her knives in her hands, watching their 6 as she followed Rick and Daryl between the massive metal cylinders that once stored mostly animal feed and seeds for farmers.
The smell of rust was littered through the stale air as they went between them and out the other side.
There was one large warehouse with 2 entrances on either side, and several smaller shed-like buildings around the outside but all of it was falling apart. It seemed this place hadn't been in a little longer than just the last year of mother-nature's necromancy.
The three of them jogged through the grass as they went around the back of the buildings, but it was disturbingly quiet here. The faint sound of birds and other woodland creatures was reassuring for no walkers but not another 30 feet when they found a dead walker on the ground.
It was only one but still.
There might be fewer walkers in this area, but Daryl knelt down to check it and one glance up at the two of them meant it was fresh.
Rick spotted the back entrance of the main warehouse, it wasn't a huge building on its own, but it was still a decent size.
Rick motioned at the two of them and received two nods before the three of them naturally split from each other.
Eve went around the left side, closest to the tree line that went right up to the edge of the building, her knives best suited for this sort of enclosed combat space — even more so than Daryl's crossbow. Rick took the building, intending on clearing it before the Governor's people get here; And Daryl took the right side, his crossbow best suited for an open space.
Daryl made it all the way to the side of the building near a broken window before he heard voices from inside and stopped.
Neither were very loud but one of them was distinctly Rick's and as he carefully peeked through the window, he saw Rick standing on a raised platform in the center of the warehouse beside a table, the Governor himself standing opposite of him with a "friendly" smile laced with poison, that failed to disguise the malevolent glint in his one good eye; the other covered with a black eyepatch.
On the other side, Eve snuck through the brush and trees and found nothing which was both worrying and somewhat relieving.
She reached the other end before the other two and her eyebrows knit.
Herschel was still in the car, looking around, but couldn't see her from where she was. This would be a good spot for a hidden sniper. If Randall hadn't been injured, she would have brought him along for this, but they couldn't spare anyone for this anyway, and no one else is as good a shot with the rifles that kid. Carl maybe, if his shoulder could withstand the kickback but he's not old enough for this kind of risk yet; even if he's a good shot.
It wasn't until she came out and moved around the front did, she stop near the front, hearing voices inside, and she recognized both of them.
"We have a lot to talk about."
The Governor's unnatural smile reminded Rick of the dirtbags he used to arrest for household abuse. When he would show up at the door from the neighbors calling the police, they would all have that same disgusting smile. Like they were pillars of the community. Model citizens. But it's the eyes. It's always the eyes that betray their nature.
"You attacked us. Makes things pretty clear." Rick didn't dare holster his weapon.
"I was tryna make things clear. I could have killed you all, I didn't." The Governor trying to play it off made Eve's stomach roll and she didn't need to see him to know he had a "disarming" smile on his face that made her hackles rise, accompanying his twisted logic.
Even Rick wasn't buying that bullshit.
"And here we are."
Rick gave a brief smile that was more disbelieving than anything before Rick drew on him.
There are few people who can draw as quick as Rick and the Governor was not one of them, if only by a hair. Maybe if he had been experienced at handling guns before the turn like Rick then he would stand a chance, but he wasn't.
The Governor wasn't phased though and simply put his hands up, continuing with that fake reasonableness, like a snake promising not to bite.
"I'm gonna remove my weapon. Show that I mean to negotiate in good faith. I'd like you to do the same. May I?"
Rick recalled Eve's words after they decided to come to this meeting.
"Just get him to talk. Find out what he's aiming to achieve with this meeting."
Rick tilted his gun slightly for half a second, showing his permission but he has half a mind to just shoot him now and be done with it. He absolutely would, if he knew how many of Woodbury's people were here but without enough information, he couldn't risk it.
The Governor unbuckled his gun belt and slowly took it off, before hanging it on a nail on a post behind him.
"See? No trouble. Now you."
Rick stared at him coldly before lowering his gun and kept his hand firmly gripped on it even as he holstered it at his side, showing a clear resolve not to put it down.
"Suit yourself." The Governor smiled like a politician and sat down at the table, motioning for Rick to, but he refused to do even that.
The Governor externally acted like he didn't care but internally a sick little part of him was thrilled that he wasn't as manipulable as those he'd dealt with in the past but also angry because it would be difficult to get what he wants after all.
The main reason Eve accepted the risk of coming here, was because Andrea is the one who set this up and she wants to see how the Governor intends to deal with them. What he'll try and how he's likely to attack them again. He seems fond of surprise attacks, lures and traps, and manipulation.
Eve's mouth unconsciously curled into a faint snarl. This guy's a real piece of work.
No matter. This whole meeting is about intel for them. The more they know about these people, the better.
Outside Daryl finally came around the side and seeing him, Eve moved away from the giant metal-sheeted sliding front door and back towards the car.
Hershel turned the car around and drove over upon seeing the two of them; his window down as he stopped next to the two.
"He's already in there. Just sat down with Rick." Daryl informed him.
All three of them were looking around as he spoke and when he was finished Hershel gave his findings.
"I don't see any cars."
"It don't feel right." Daryl vocalized his sense of unease, looking around in the opposite direction as Eve before looking back to Hershel.
"Keep it runnin'."
Hershel nodded in agreement.
Not a second later the sound of a rather large vehicle approached, and they raised their weapons as a big dirty white truck pulled up and stopped.
Two men got out of one side, one of them with tan skin and seemed a great deal more threatening than the pasty white office-worker type behind him, and Andrea got off the passenger seat.
"What the Hell, why's your boy already in there?" Daryl asked, aiming at the tan man who drove.
"What? He's here?" Andrea's surprise made it evident that she had no idea the Governor intended to show today.
The space between Eve's eyebrows scrunched.
"Yup" Daryl answered and Andrea sighed, just barely managing to not roll her eyes before walking towards the front door and using both hands to slide the rusty sheet-metal door open a few feet, just big enough to let a person through.
"What's going on?" she asked as she went inside and comprehended the two in the center of the room.
"Nothin'. Friend isn't much for small talk." The Governor answered.
"Well you wanna talk, talk." Rick threw back, glancing at the back, just in case. He wasn't too worried about the front because he heard Daryl out there, but part of him hoped Eve was still out back.
"I wanted you to talk." Andrea approached the table and spoke like a diplomat, putting her law-training and court-presence to good use. "Too many people have died for no reason. Let's end this. Save the bullets for the real threat."
She leaned her hands on the table. "Let's solve this. That's why I asked you to come here."
Truthfully, neither of them were really listening, too busy staring each other down, waiting for the slightest move. Neither one of them was concerned about Andrea being a threat, so they didn't dare take their eyes off one another.
Eve warned him beforehand that this Governor seemed fond of tricks and manipulation — as learned during her brief stay in Woodbury and the horrors they've heard and experienced since — so Rick was being extra cautious. But so was the Governor, and he wasn't saying much, trying to get Rick to talk first.
So, Rick decided to poke the bear a little bit.
"I know what you've done."
The Governor continued to look as if he didn't know what Rick was talking about. A pretense that Rick had a feeling went up the moment Andrea showed up. He was only putting it up because of Andrea's presence.
"I heard about the raids, the heads, Maggie."
"Merle did that." The Governor was quick to make that clear.
"No." Rick denied firmly but it was so outright that he almost sounded casual. "You know what I'm talkin' about."
"You know all about me, and I know all about you — I don't care about any of that. We're here to move forward."
Rick's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. He was awfully quick to try and steer the conversation away from that topic. Which means Andrea at the very least probably doesn't know and the Governor doesn't want her to know. How many of his people are in the dark about what he really is?
His last two sentences made Rick tense and he raised his guard even further.
Outside, things were tense. Eve wanted to slip around back and go check that sniper spot and the perimeter again but with how tense things were, there was no way she could slip away unnoticed. It may even turn into a standoff if one of them tries to leave.
Both sides kept their eyes on each other's every move, but even at a brief glance it's obvious their side would win a fight. There's 3 of them who are more than capable of fighting, and only two of the Governor's people were still out here, and only the tan man had his machine gun out, the other was writing in a notebook on the hood behind him.
Daryl paced in front of her and Hershel, and Hershel finally said, "Maybe I should go inside."
As soon as Hershel said it, the pale man with glasses looked up and refuted him.
"The Governor thought it best if he and Rick spoke privately."
Eve blinked. I'm sorry was that supposed to convince us? Listen, buddy, you may be obligated to listen to him, but as far as we're concerned the Governor's just another asshole. His "rank" is not above ours.
Daryl shared the same sentiments and couldn't resist looking at the man and asking, "Who the Hell are you?"
"Milton. Mamet." The man answered, a little nervousness sneaking in at the end before he returned to writing in his book.
"Great. He brought his butler."
Eve repressed a laugh but the tan man on the other side chuckled under his breath. Seems he doesn't think too highly of 'Milton' either.
"I'm his advisor." Milton didn't even bother looking up from his notebook.
Advisor, huh? I wonder how much of his twisted ideas were "advised". Eve thought to herself, not making it obvious that she was watching him a little more closely now.
Daryl had a similar thought and asked with genuine curiosity, "What kind of advice?"
Milton raised his head, but his eyes kept the lower corner of his eyes in thought as he answered, "Planning, biters. Uh, you know I'm sorry, I don't feel the need to explain myself to the henchman."
"Better watch your mouth, Sunshine." Daryl chastised like he normally does.
The tan man finally chose to join the exchange.
"Look, if you and I are gonna be out here pointin' guns at each other all day, do me a favor… shut your mouth."
Daryl stalked up to him like he was ready to fight him the way he fights with Merle, and Hershel cut in before it got out of hand.
"We don't need this. If all goes south in there, we'll be at each other's throats soon enough."
Daryl and the tan man backed down, Daryl coming back towards them but surprisingly Eve didn't give him a chastising gaze like he half expected. She looked rather neutral actually and he went back to pacing like a wild wolf in a cage.
Eve's soft exhale of amusement swaddled in disbelief, went entirely unnoticed by both parties as she watched Milton ignorantly turn back to his notebook as if he didn't just provoke an already aggrieved and on edge enemy.
For an adviser, he isn't too bright.
She didn't even need to give this "advisor" a once over to know he is not combat capable. It was evident by the way he dresses and speaks — he honestly reminds her of some of their group members before the CDC.
He speaks like a modern person still. Like humanity hasn't been set back to tribal ways and this isn't a diplomatic meeting between two warring peoples bent on destroying each other.
Failing to recognize what position they're actually in. No wonder the Governor behaves so erratically and gets away with it — maybe he's even encouraged for all she knows!
Being "advised" by someone who doesn't understand their situation clearly, it's a wonder Woodbury has stood this long.
If that wasn't funny enough, he called them henchmen completely unaware that the leader isn't in there, but right here.
Adding in their surprise when they found out their own leader was here before them, proves how unstable their ranks are.
Their own leader doesn't trust them, and if they feel the need to justify their positions to outsiders with childish gimmicks like this, then they don't trust the Governor either. They're aware of how erratic he is.
Woodbury might be easier to deal with than she thought.
She paid a little more attention to the tan man's behavior. He didn't say much aside from that one sentence, but he isn't too good at hiding what he's thinking.
His own body language and expression gave away the fact Milton doesn't know how to fight and can probably barely defend himself. Which means he just told them that this is a 3v1.
They're either stupid or they sure have a lot of confidence in themselves.
From what she saw herself, and what Merle said — which was later confirmed by Andrea when she came to the prison and said they were training to attack — most of the people inside their walls are normal civilians.
Your everyday guys, gals, and non-binary pals. Very few of them have any combat experience, and even fewer know what's actually going on.
If there's anybody biting their tongue and keeping quiet, Eve wants to know about it but that might be a little far reaching. Planting a spy isn't exactly feasible or safe.
She pegged Milton as somewhat of a pacifist by his behavior and this tan guy has got to be Martinez. Merle's description this morning when she asked who was likely to show up for this, wasn't far off but he expected there to be one more person that she hasn't seen yet. A tall black man, also quiet but handy with a gun and takes orders directly from Martinez and the Governor. He and Martinez usually operate together but she hasn't seen him.
That makes her wary of him hiding somewhere and could explain why Martinez is so relaxed, but that could also be his personality. Merle said he was more lackadaisical than the others but is aware about what really goes on in Woodbury, with the Governor specifically. He has a good ability for seeing past bullshit.
With a little bit of Eve's own observation over the next few minutes, he's good at knowing where he stands. He has the same attitude as they do, they're all aware that this "negotiation" is just a pretense.
Before, Eve wasn't too sure. It was entirely possible that they were here to negotiate terms and leave each other alone because neither was willing to give up what they'd built up here, but Martinez's attitude confirmed it. They're not here to negotiate, they're here to feel each other out.
Suddenly Eve heard the voices inside getting a little more riled up and distinctly heard Rick raise his voice, "You told me he was willing to talk."
Everyone outside bristled, eyes on the door, but there was no follow up after that for a few moments until a minute later and Andrea stormed out.
Martinez walked towards her with a questioning eyebrow, but she said nothing and just went to the side where there's a bench and sat down with her head in her hands.
Martinez went up and closed the door, leaving Rick and the Governor alone again.
Eve's POV
A while later, even Daryl's pacing has slowed down.
Everybody outside baking in the sun has been leaking energy like overcharged batteries, just waiting around in this tense atmosphere.
Nobody escaped the effect, not even me.
My legs are boiling from sitting on the roof of the hot car, playing with the reflection of my knife on the asphalt.
Nobody is even watching each other closely anymore.
I mean yeah, we glance at each other every so often, but I think I speak for all of us when I say that we've tacitly agreed that none of us give a shit anymore.
Unless something happens inside, we're obviously not gonna do anything, and if all goes right today, we won't be shooting each other at all this time, even if these "negotiations" end ugly.
After another few minutes of sweltering ticked by, I finally couldn't take it anymore and hopped down.
I gave Daryl's shoulder a slight bump and glanced away, letting him know I'm gonna head off for a bit. I can't relax without knowing whether they brought others or not. I don't exactly trust these people.
He nodded, glancing at the other side who aren't paying any attention to us whatsoever, and grumbled to me in a low voice that only I could hear.
"Don't go too far."
I nodded and casually went around the car, sitting at the back for a bit in the shade, just so I didn't disappear right away and tip them off, before slipping away and heading for the sniper spot, and one other place I noticed while we've been sitting on our hands.
Checking those places was fast. Faster than I anticipated — it took me barely a minute to get around the back and make sure I wasn't spotted through the back door when I went past.
After I checked those places, I couldn't deny it anymore. There really isn't anyone else here, there aren't even any signs (that I can pick up) that anyone except me has been over here.
I finally sighed and went to double back but stopped when I saw a little natural path through the trees that lead over the road and to more buildings on the other side that we didn't check.
I hesitated for a moment but what the Hell else am I gonna do? Keep playing with light reflections like a cat, wondering if me or Daryl or Hershel are being looked at through a scope from somewhere?
Pass, thanks.
I was careful getting across the street without being seen and made my way around two buildings, getting behind those guys to check that side and on the other side of the street — from the direction they came from — and yet I still found nothing.
I suppose that's better than finding something, and at least I have some peace of mind now.
They really did come by themselves.
I wiped the sweat off the side of my face with the back of my hands. This area really is quiet, but the longer we've been here, the less wary I've become towards it.
We've been hanging out here long enough, in the open, that I'm not so worried about it anymore. I think it really is just a quiet area, not many walkers.
If there were any, they'd have come out by now.
With an exhausted sigh, I turned back to head back the way I came and passed another structure on the wrong side of the road that would also have been a good spot for a sniper, seeing as how it has a direct line of sight to the front of the warehouse where I can see everybody hanging out. I can even see Andrea sulking from here; lookin' like she's just been told her teenage son took his friend's joyriding in her B&W and crashed it into a retirement home. But alas, this building's roof is caved in and it wasn't difficult to see inside without taking a single step from where I am.
Moving on, I turned around the side of yet another grain store, intending to make one big loop and end up behind my guys so I can sneak back from behind the car like I never left.
The grain stores had different plans for me though.
I snuck around the side of it and a mass of feathers flew past me.
I jumped and unintentionally hit the metal with the butt of my knife, hard enough to make it echo like a gong that's bigger than a person or a frickin' church bell, and alerted my presence to the only walkers in this entire place, who were chillin' in the space ahead of me. Because that's the kind of luck I have.
They looked straight at me like a horror movie and the first thing that came to mind was, "Seriously? That was an actual. !"
Spinning my knife in hand, I turned to run back but didn't get ten feet before my heart leapt into my throat and I slid to a stop — three walkers blocking the way I came.
Dammit! They must have come around the other side of the cylinder.
Spinning on my toes, I plunged my knife into a skull that was too close for comfort and threw my shoulder as hard as I could into the body, knocking down every walker behind it like bowling pins.
A thrill shot through me as my half a second plan worked, and I ran past them before they had a chance to even raise their hands to grab at me and dashed into the clearing on the other side.
The victory was short lived.
As soon as I got out of the trap that these grain stores created, it wasn't any better. There were four others waiting for me and when they saw me, I could almost see their hunger kick up a notch.
It's too risky to go back. I grit my teeth. I don't have a choice; the only way is forward.
I raised my knives and took a quick breath before dropping in a crouch and swung my leg out in a practiced motion, sweep-kicking the two closest walkers in a row right off their feet.
As soon as they were out of the way, I threw my knives before the bodies even hit the ground with squelching thuds and cracks like ice breaking.
Thank youuuuuuu past me for starting MMA practice again at the farm.
The newly sharpened knives buried themselves into the foreheads of the third and fourth and I made to grab them as I ran past, but my celebration was even shorter as the walkers I knocked down, grabbed both my legs, instead of trying to get up.
I plummeted forward, my feet stumbling, and my boots caught on their jaws as my hands shot out, trying to catch myself and I managed to land in a push up without face-planting.
I had no time to think about how successful my catch was when I felt imposing pressure on my leg.
In a knee jerk reaction, I kicked my legs and jammed the tip of my thick leather boots into their mouths when I couldn't get my legs free, to avoid losing a chunk of my calf.
Trying not to think about the pressure caving in on my toes, my eyes darted around for anything within reach and the second I saw something, my hand shot for it.
My fist yanked the rusted bar free of the dirt and I twisted, twirling it between my fingers until it gained enough momentum and timed it when I flung my arm back with as much force as I could muster.
The skull cracked like a walnut with a squelch as I stabbed the bar through its skull with enough force — aided by the momentum from the twirling — to puncture it out the back of its head back into the dirt.
Every hair on the back of my neck stood up and my heart pounded so hard it could out beat a marching band as growls and bangs and other noises from between the grain stores; meaning the walkers are getting back up and could be here any second.
My arm trembled under my weight, while the other walker pawed at me leg, trying to scratch its way through my jeans.
I pulled my foot out of the dead one's mouth, kicking its arms free of me and used the bar's leverage to pull myself backwards until I could scramble up.
I reached for the back of my waistband and my heart pounded when nothing met my fingers.
Where's my gun!?
Acting fast, I let go of the bar, ripped my shoe out of its mouth and brought my leg down so hard I may have done less damage if I dropped a bowling ball on it.
It's rotted soft skull crushed like a frozen grape and cracked open like an egg, scattering blood and brain matter beneath my boots like an elephant stepping on a watermelon.
My chest heaved as I ripped the rebar out of the ground again in one pull — which I would not have been able to do if I didn't have enough adrenaline to kill a whale shooting through my veins — and whirled around, looking for the next one but I didn't find any walkers. Instead, I found an audience.
I froze out of instinct, returning a blank stare to Daryl and Martinez's looks of mild disgust and somewhat veiled awe.
"..."
"..."
My foot squished and I looked down before stepping out of the remains of a skull, my chest still heaving, and moved to a cleaner patch of grass and wiped the blood and flesh off my boots.
Well...so long as this is a performance.
I gave an exaggerated performer's bow.
Daryl rolled his eyes, but you can't hide that amusement from me, I know you thought it was funny. That's precisely why I winked at him.
Martinez gave me a mildly impressed look and moved to lean against a phone pole.
Daryl came up, glancing over me while I blew a loose strand of hair outta my face.
He lowered his voice. "What did I say about going too far?"
Does this look far to you? We're like 10 meters from where we've been sitting all day.
"At least it wasn't a sinkhole this time."
My jaw dropped open completely caught off guard.
BitCh—
I stuck my tongue out at him, but he didn't care, instead chuckling, which prompted Martinez to do it too.
Bish I could have died where did all your concern for my well-being go?
At least they took care of the ones behind me.
I shook my head going to retrieve my knives, still mentally raving as I yanked them out and spun them a few times in my hands; flinging as much congealed blood off as I cloud before wiping them on the walkers clothes and stowing them back where they belong. They're still gonna need a good cleaning but whatever.
I guess it's a good thing this concluded my sweep of the area, huh?
I doubt they even knew I was gone before now, but looking at Martinez, he doesn't seem too concerned about it. Maybe he did notice me leave and just didn't care.
"Look what he's got."
I looked over and watched Daryl pull a pack of smokes out of a walker's pocket and hold it up over his shoulder. He stood back up and put one between his lips before offering them to Martinez.
Martinez read the box, shaking his head. "Nah, I prefer menthols."
"Douchebag." Daryl muttered nonchalantly as he put the pack in his back pocket and got a lighter.
I moved back slightly, rolling my shoulder as he lit one up and directed his gaze at Martinez.
"You army or somethin'?" Daryl looked at Martinez, blowing smoke from his lips.
"Nah, I just...just hate these things." Martinez's intense stare fixated on his bloodied bat.
"After what they did to my wife...kids."
Daryl glanced at the ground, before bringing his smoke back to his lips. "That sucks."
"Thanks." Martinez's voice was quiet as he nodded.
It was silent for a few moments before he looked between me and Daryl.
"You know this is a joke, right?"
I raised an eyebrow, not really sure whether that was directed at me or not; cause what just happened most certainly wasn't a joke — well ok, maybe the bow at the end was but in my defense, I thought it was the perfect end to a near-death experience.
"They ain't gonna work anything out. Sure, they'll do their little dance and tomorrow, next day...they'll give the word."
So he was aware. Good to know.
"I know." Daryl answered gruffly.
Martinez doesn't seem that bad to be honest. We're on different sides of this but I don't have anything against him personally. He doesn't seem like he even wants to be here, fighting someone else's vendetta.
"Hey," Martinez motioned at Daryl and Daryl handed him the smokes.
I swallowed and tapped Daryl on the shoulder. If they're both gonna smoke, I'm not sticking around. I can handle Daryl cause I… I don't know. It's not comfortable, but I can tolerate it, but not Martinez too.
He looked at me and I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder already starting off.
He nodded and shifted like he was going to come with me but stopped as soon as he touched the cigarette in his mouth.
I paused and waited for him to do something, but he was just staring at me. Until his eyes moved to my shoulder.
He shifted before muttering, "I'll catch up."
He shifted and muttered, "I'll catch up"
I nodded and gave Martinez a short departing one before making my way back between the containers towards the warehouse.
Getting back won't be difficult. I'll just follow this nice trail of bodies, and beside one of those bodies was none other than her missing gun. Sitting right next to a pile of the bowling pin walkers.
3rd Person POV
Martinez watched the exchange with casual curiosity. He pegged a while ago that these two had a different sort of connection but he's still not quite sure what it is.
He noticed Daryl glance at her shoulder though and freeze as soon as his fingers touched the cigarette in his mouth. He didn't quite put 2 and 2 together, but he got halfway and assumed that maybe he had promised to quit smokin' or something but whatever, it's none of his business.
Amazing what boredom will do to a person. He's even making guesses about these people's personal lives now.
Daryl and Martinez, ironically, were the only two to have a decent conversation all this time and it was during a brief smoke break. But Daryl didn't finish his and he was uncomfortable through the whole thing. It took him a while to realize he was thinking about whether the smell would…... and that's when he put it out on the bottom of his shoe and dropped it into the bowl of wet goop that was once a head and went back.
Meanwhile, Eve went back just as Hershel got up from where he was sitting with Milton on this side of the road, having just finished a conversation about how he lost his leg before Hershel got up to go talk to Andrea.
Eve naturally went to sit by them, noticing Andrea did not look great.
"How's it going in there?" Hershel asked the golden blonde.
Andrea looked up and answered dejectedly.
"They kicked me out."
She released an exhausted sigh, returning her eyes to the ground and continued.
"I don't know what I'm doing here."
"You're trying to help." Hershel answered, like it was the most natural thing to see, glancing around.
Andrea slowly looked up again and hesitated before asking with a voice on the verge of breaking, "What happened with Maggie?"
Hershel looked at her, knowing that she had already guessed what had happened and was just looking for confirmation.
"He's a sick man."
Andrea looked away again, her eyes drifting to Milton across the road who met hers for a moment before returning them to his little notebook.
"What am I gonna do now?" Tears collected in her eyes as she looked around, trying not to cry. "I can't go back there."
"We're family. You belong with us." Hershel reassured her but he couldn't deny the reality either. "But if you join us… it's settled."
"I know." A single tiny tear slipped out of her eye, barely big enough to roll down her bottom eyelid.
Andrea swallowed, looking down.
The decision she wanted to make was clear as day, but she knew she couldn't just make it without irreparable consequences. She didn't even feel as though it was a real option.
After Hershel finished speaking Eve suddenly spoke.
"You have to go back."
She looked Andrea in the eyes. "But you don't have to stay."
Milton's view of that dark-haired woman was blocked by Hershel as she sat on the bench beside Andrea but for a moment, when the old man shifted, it looked like she was talking to Andrea.
That wouldn't be unusual — they were part of the same group for a long time, but Andrea told him about that woman.
He only recognized her because of how quiet she's been and the distinctive gold eyes.
Eve, was it?
Andrea said she wasn't much of a talker. That she had never heard more than a few words from her.
After seeing her in person... he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious.
There's a strange air around her. It's easy to overlook her, like even if you're looking right at her, she's in your blind spot. Always just out of sight.
He can't quite tell whether it raises a red flag or if she's just not that significant.
For half a second Milton met a gold eye around Hershel.
Inside the warehouse, Rick looked at the Governor in silence as the man got up and stretched his legs a little.
"You know, the truth is I didn't want any of this. They chose me because there was nobody else around." The Governor chuckled as he rubbed his hands. "And they still think that I'm the man who can keep them safe. They still think I know what I'm doing."
That may be the first honest, unveiled thing this man has said to Rick this entire conversation, but Rick continued to sit there and quietly listen. He finally gets why Eve never said much. The less you say, the more other people talk.
The Governor went over and picked his gun belt off the nail, casually putting it back on and simultaneously indicating that this conversation will be over soon but they're past the point where Rick thought he would shoot him. Nevertheless, his hand remained on his gun where it's been all this time, even after he had sat down when Andrea left, and even after he finally drank the whiskey the Governor had brought (but only after the Governor had drunk 3 glasses himself).
"I know you got guns. Mmm. That was quite a stash you brought back the other day." The Governor didn't expect that Rick didn't know they were being watched; he was a little disappointed that he didn't even flinch though.
"Now my people, they're not uh, combat-tested like yours are but… I've got more of them. So, this fight, it will go down to the last man."
The Governor came back towards him.
"So, let's end it. Today. Let's not do this. Hm? We can walk away."
Rick shifted with a deep breath but his posture already said that he knew the Governor wanted something, and Rick was ready to finally hear it, after spending so long letting the Governor talk and try his mind games and waste time. Finally, he's through with all that and Rick knew it when the atmosphere became darker, heavier and the man opened his mouth again, taking slow steps towards Rick.
"You have something that I want."
"One thing that makes this all alright."
"I'm not giving up the prison." Rick stated.
The Governor laughed as he sat back down. "No."
"No, I uh— I don't want your prison. That doesn't sound safe at all. I mean, you lost your wife, and almost half your group."
"We're not movin' on." Rick stated again.
"What good would that do me? Best you stay where I can keep my one good eye on you." The Governor squinted his one eye at him in a sinisterly playful way.
His mood changed again, and the Governor slowly took his eyepatch off, the air evidently being a bit painful to the still fresh wound.
The skin looked like a cross made of curdled wet blood, the eyelid partially deflated and dark, discolored. The inside red with bits of white goop, whatever survived from his actual eyeball but Rick couldn't even tell if his iris and pupil were even still there.
"I want Michonne."
The Governor dropped all pretenses, all mind games. His one piercing eye fixed on Rick.
"Turn her over and this all goes away. Is she worth it? One woman… worth all those lives at your prison. Is she?"
Rick's eyes drifted down in thought.
Eve turned her head back to Andrea and nodded before pulling a small map out from her jacket and trailed her finger over it, pointing to a spot and then trailing again.
"Memorize it."
Andrea nodded, watching Eve's finger carefully as she repeatedly traced the path. "I got it — but this is the wrong way."
Eve nodded. "You can't let them know where you're going. Even if they assume right, this will throw them off long enough."
"Stay off the road. Move next to it, not on it. Leave as little trace as possible when you leave. Don't tell anyone, don't say goodbye, don't behave or speak like you're not gonna be there. Make a point of telling them you will be, but don't be too specific, that way if they notice you're missing too soon, they'll waste time searching the base for you and won't assume anything until after they can't find you."
Andrea's eyebrows furrowed in concentration for a moment before it relaxed, and she nodded.
"How will I know which one?"
"You'll know it when you see it." Eve tapped that spot on the map again.
"If you get into trouble before you can get out or can't find an opportunity to slip away, set a fire. Make it big. It'll be enough of a distraction they won't have time to worry about what you're doing."
Andrea nodded again.
"Remember, don't go to the prison. That's the first place they'll assume. You will be caught, and we won't be able to help you."
"I'll leave you further instructions there."
Andrea nodded, seriously and Eve held out her hand.
Andrea grasped it and Eve squeezed her hand.
"Good luck."
Eve slipped the map back into her pocket and she and Hershel moved away, going back to their own side, just as Daryl and Martinez came back.
Daryl glanced at Eve and with her back facing everyone else, she winked at him.
Daryl concealed his surprise well, he didn't know what had happened yet, but she wouldn't have signaled him if it wasn't significant, and judging by her calm serious composure, whatever it was is something in their favor.
It wasn't long after that, that the Governor came out with an imposing stride, followed by Rick. The malevolent atmosphere followed them outside and immediately all sense of what little familiarity the lot of them had built up just by being out here together for hours, was gone. Covered in a thick black fog that spread in the Governor's wake with every step he took towards the truck without saying a word.
The party was over the moment the Governor came out and everyone moved back towards their cars like kids who got caught playing when they weren't supposed to be, but neither man who came out of the warehouse seemed to care.
The people outside seemed to have had a better time than those who had gone in.
His hands in his pockets, Rick exchanged a look with Eve and Daryl that only said one thing. Whatever they talked about, they need to know, asap.
To an outsider though, the meaning of those two seconds of eye contact was too deep to understand.
Martinez glanced at Daryl & Eve as he got in the backseat, and it would be a lie if the three of them didn't understand that it was a parting on good terms. They all knew they're on different sides of this, but they don't have beef with each other specifically.
It's a rare thing, finding a tacit understanding with your enemy that if you didn't have to fight each other, you probably wouldn't. That's the nature of war. People fighting other people's wars. Wars they didn't start, wars they wanted no part of but didn't really have a choice.
It's rare to find respect for your enemy and it was even weirder to find that between these three of all people.
Daryl went so far as to give him a nod, which Martinez returned before he pulled the truck door shut.
Eve went to Daryl's motorcycle with him while the others went to the car and a chorus of car doors shut.
She made eye contact with Andrea and gave her a casual two finger salute, just as a parting, and Andrea gave a little nod in turn before returning to the truck.
Eve deliberately moved her gaze across the windshield of Woodbury's truck, checking the driver's seat and thankfully the Governor had one beady on Rick, the two of them staring each other down.
Eve wouldn't have done anything at all if he hadn't seen Andrea looking at her. This is as far as she can help Andrea to dissuade suspicion and get away. She's on her own from here.
Daryl drove past first, and Eve shared a nod with Martinez too as they passed the back window, a surprising small part of her hopes that whatever happens after today, they won't have to be the ones to kill each other.
And just like that, the cars drove off in different directions.
On the way back, Eve tapped Daryl and cupped her hand around his ear so he could hear. "We need to make a stop. I'll tell you when."
He nodded and a few minutes later, she tapped his shoulder again and pointed where he needed to turn.
Rick in the car behind them was confused but naturally followed when he didn't see a gesture to do otherwise before Hershel could even open his mouth to explain.
When they reached a seemingly innocuous building, Eve got off the bike and pointed at a seemingly random car, turning to the other two. "Hershel take watch. Rick see if you can get this running and bring me the keys."
They were both confused now but nodded and Eve motioned Daryl to come with her into the two-story building behind it.
There weren't any walkers inside, so it wasn't difficult to clear and secure and upstairs, Eve grabbed a box and took her knife to start carving.
"What's this about?" Daryl asked, wanting to know what exactly her game plan is. She didn't say anything about this before they left.
Eve didn't answer and finished her carving before handing him the box.
Daryl looked down at the dusty plastic bin with 'On Golden Pond' carved into the navy blue lid, and a vision of an old man in a bucket hat fixing the troublesome radiator hose of a certain RV flashed across his mind.
"You're leavin' this for Andrea?"
Eve nodded and took out the spare gun and a spare clip she had equipped just that morning and opened the box, putting them inside.
"She's leaving Woodbury. Give me your walkie."
Daryl passed the box to her and took it out of his pocket, tossing it in without prompt.
"It's already set to the right channel, but she won't be able to get a signal from this far."
Eve nodded; she knows.
Passing the box back, she dug her notebook out of her pocket and wrote a somewhat cryptic message:
'The channel number is the same as the number of letters in Amy's favorite mythical creature. The color that's closest to Dale's eyes is the correct next location.'
Andrea and Eve are just about the only two people left in this world who will understand this message.
Assuming Andrea hasn't forgotten about her younger sister's obsession with mermaids, or what color Dale's eyes are.
Once that was done, she took out the mini map from her pocket and the two pens from her pocket, a blue and a black one, and circled two different spots on the map; both of which could be the right one but aren't. The point is just to get her close enough to them to use the walkie, and then Eve can send her to the actual right place.
Rick came up not a minute later and tossed the keys at her.
Eve caught the little bundle and dropped them into the box along with the note.
Eve put the box in the open where it would be easily found but only by someone who was looking for a clue.
They headed back just as the sun was going down and the world was cast in an orange light.
The others were relieved to see that they were alright and Eve was pleased to see the preparations she'd left for them got done, and Glenn reported to her that everything went smoothly aside from Merle trying to sneak attack the Governor while they were gone. They managed to stop him obviously, but only just.
Eve nodded and glanced at Daryl beside her, he nodded and kissed the side of her head. "Go clean up, I got it."
The corner of Eve's lip quirked up and she went to do just that before meeting everyone for dinner. For once, they all ate in the same room at the same time and with all these guns and invisible but mounted defenses, a sense of determined hope hung in the room.
They're ready for the fight of their lives, and they're ready to win.
Thanks for reading and I'll see you next chp!
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