Liars, Thugs, and Cowards
The crowd was loud around me. The people of Woodbury shouted and scolded Merle and Daryl. I couldn't catch all the words, only some, every so often.
"Kill 'em! Kill 'em!"
"How dare you!"
Daryl stood with his hands behind his back, staring back at me. I couldn't read his expression, but I guessed he was as confused and scared as I was. His hairline was soaked in sweat, with one side of his vest draping over his arm. Even when he broke his gaze with me, I still watched him. He wouldn't stand still, head-turning, constantly switching his weight from one foot to the next anxiously.
Merle moved closer, standing close beside Daryl and stepping into my line of sight. Merle stared at his brother just as I did, but Daryl didn't look back, his eyes going everywhere but to Merle's. I knew why. Maybe I hadn't known earlier that day, but I knew then.
We were in enemy territory; Daryl was ready. Ready to fight or to run.
I remembered only at that moment that this was the first time Daryl was seeing Merle. I'd been with him the whole day, but this was the first time for Daryl, and it didn't seem to matter.
The Governor strolled into my line of sight, walking around behind both brothers. My jaw went tight as I glared. He only continued to walk around to the front of them.
I wanted to run to Daryl. I wanted to do something rather than stand there. I looked up at Martinez, startled when I noticed he'd been watching me. I recognized his stoic, tense stance as he held his gun; he was ready too. I could tell he'd been waiting for my reaction, prepared to stop me from doing something stupid.
Though I was pretty sure at that point nothing could have beat the stupidity of me sneaking into that damn car.
Was this my fault?
I looked back at the brothers, my gaze switching between them, searching for any hint or idea of what I was supposed to do.
I recalled the walk with Merle and Martinez when I'd asked Merle what was going on. "Whatever happens now, just stay outta the way." He'd told me. Did he know this would happen? Was he expecting something?
Nothing I could possibly do or say could help or change what would happen. So I did my best to do what Merle said and stayed out of the way.
"I asked you where your loyalties lie," The Governor spoke, his booming baritone voice hushing the crowd. After all the shouting, the quiet was eerie. I watched as a man walked behind the brothers. He was holding Daryl's crossbow. Daryl's hands were freed by him, and he adjusted his vest, eyes meeting mine only briefly.
"Well, prove it." The Governor ordered. "Prove it to us all. Brother against brother. Winner goes free. Fight . . . to the death!"
The crowd roared again, shouting affirmatives and cheering on the fight.
I shook my head and looked around, searching for any sign that anyone would stop it. I saw that boy from earlier, Patrick; he'd given me the bubble drink. He was standing on the other side of the arena, his arms crossed over his stomach in an uncomfortable stance. A tall woman was beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other with her fist clenched, waving it at the brothers.
Patrick's eyes met mine; he looked sad and shocked. After a long moment, his eyes cast downward as he hung his head low.
After looking around more, I saw the old lady from earlier, Helen. She also wasn't cheering. Helen was sitting on one of the far bleachers, seated on the bottom bench. She missed me looking as Patrick had, her concentration firmly on the scene in front of her. I couldn't read the expression on her face. But she didn't seem happy.
The pain in my leg begged me to sit down, but I couldn't. As much as I knew I couldn't do anything, that I had to stay out of the way, I couldn't do nothing.
I must have had a look on my face, some tell-tale sign that I was about to dash forward and try something because a hand landed on my shoulder.
"Don't," he said.
My head turned, surprised that it wasn't Martinez like I'd been expecting. Daddy.
I shook my head again, pleading with my eyes. "They-they can't!" My sentence wasn't complete, and I hadn't made sense. But he knew what I meant.
"Ain't yer business, you know that."
I did. "We can't let-we have to stop it!"
Daddy's head turned to look at me; his expression was fierce yet impassive. "No. We don't. We can't."
"But—"
"—Toby." My name in his voice made my insides churn. I hadn't heard it in so long. I wanted to cry for a whole new reason. But none of that mattered then. "Look around. The scouts have their guns. The people want this. We can't take it from 'em. We can't stop it."
"Y'all know me!" Merle shouted. My attention turned to him, one fist raised in the air, walking around the arena. "I'm gonna do, whatever I gotta do to prove-" Merle spun quickly, forcing his fist clear into Daryl's gut. I had been taken by surprise so much that I let out a scream. Daryl had landed hard on the ground.
"That my loyalty—" Merle kicked Daryl's side hard, causing him to roll away, "is to this town!"
"Merle, stop it!" My voice was so high I was practically screeching. Daddy gripped my shoulder tight and spun me around to face him.
"Knock it off!"
"No!" I tried to push his hand off of mine, but his other one grabbed onto my arm to hold me still.
"This ain't yer fight. But if ya keep hollerin', it's gonna be."
"Daddy, he didn't do nothin'!" I was yelling too loud, blowing my cover. I didn't care; it didn't matter. I only wanted it to stop. The crowd was probably too loud to hear anyway. "I know him! I know Daryl! He's good!"
"Quiet down," Daddy's voice went low in warning.
I shook my head desperately, not wanting to but knowing he was right. "What did Merle do? Why does he have to do this? He didn't do nothin'!" I shouted the last comment, mostly because I wanted to believe it. I wasn't sure. Was this all because of the lie? Was it about me? The Governor said he was a traitor, letting the terrorists in. The terrorists, in my mind, was something to do with the shooting earlier. Merle was with me when that happened. "He's wrong!" I finally concluded about the Governor.
"Maybe so," Daddy's expression softened, and his voice lowered. He put his face closer to my ear, ensuring I could hear over the crowd. "Governor might just need a scapegoat. That ain't for us to intervene."
Merle landed another hard kick into Daryl's side, and I yelled, though I couldn't hear myself over the crowd.
Daddy used his grip to turn me away again, "If ya can't control yerself, turn 'round. Or Gov's throwin' ya in next."
Without looking, I could hear the thumping of more kicks or punches. I did what Daddy said, covering my eyes and turning around. I felt his hand pat me on the back.
My head snapped back when I heard the familiar growling, snarling and snapping. Four men were bringing walkers into the arena on metal sticks. I recognized the pole from when Merle had taken a walker down to the basement where he was keeping Glenn and Maggie.
Merle kicked Daryl, which sent him rolling through the dirt. He slammed into a cement wall in the middle of the arena, and when Merle neared him to kick him again, Daryl was able to swing his fist around, punching Merle across his face. Merle stumbled backwards, holding his nose, glancing around with a panicked look on his face when he noticed the walkers for the first time.
Daryl stood, running over to grab Merle, but Merle was able to catch him by his vest and take him down. The men with the walkers closed in on them, but neither of them flinched.
Merle had a tight grip on his vest as he kneeled over him, and Daryl reached up, wrapping his hands around Merle's neck.
I could see their mouths moving as they spoke to one another, but I couldn't understand what they were saying over the yelling. As I watched them, I clenched my teeth together, knowing that either Daddy or the Governor would make me leave if I yelled out again. Neither one was a good option.
My eyes widened when Merle grabbed Daryl by his arm, pulling him to his feet. Daryl spun around to stand back-to-back, and they faced the walkers. The men moved closer, and Daryl stepped forward to shove one of the walkers away. Daryl glanced back, keeping a protective stance as he looked around at the walkers closest to him.
Merle stepped forward, slamming the metal prosthetic into one of the monster's head, using his hand to shove it to the ground. Another one neared, which he kicked away, and the man holding the walker swung the pole back around to hold it up. Merle grabbed the first walker by the shoulder, shoving it to the ground.
I watched as Daryl charged at one of the walkers, punching it to knock the puppeteer off balance. As the man stumbled to keep his grip on the pole, Daryl slammed its hands into the walker and pushed it into the group of people standing behind them. He then turns on his feet, punching another walker in the face.
Gunshots followed. I flinched, watching as one of the walkers dropped in front of me before my eyes darted around to find the source of the bullets. More bodies dropped around when I realized that it wasn't only the walkers being killed but also some of the people.
The screaming was louder than any yelling before, and people kneeled down and rushed to the exits. I heard the sound of hissing before seeing the smoke, just like what I had seen in the streets before. It filled the arena quickly, leaving me unable to see more than two inches in front of me. My vision only worsened when some of the lights popped, and the arena fell into complete darkness. I was basically blind at this point.
I walked forwards quickly to find Daryl, calling out his name as I wandered into what I remembered to be the middle of the arena. People ran around me, barely turning or stopping before they ran into me and trampled over me.
I felt my shoulder slam into something. I went to move away, not knowing if it was a person or a walker. Before I could, my hair was grabbed roughly, and I felt fingers knotting into the back of my scalp.
I turned my head up, seeing the Governor. I struggled harder once I saw his face, the gauze over his eye was darkening as his wound bled, one straight line of blood leaking down his cheek.
I heard his voice but couldn't make out the words between the screaming and yelling. In only a moment, there was a man at his side with dark skin and a thick dark beard that matched his hair.
The Governor pulled me by my hair, practically tossing me into the man's side.
"Take her—" he spoke, but his words were unintelligible to me once again. "—meet there after."
I tried to grasp whatever he said, but I simply had not caught the words. The man had both his hands on my shoulders, squeezing them tight enough to bruise and pulling me around. I struggled, but it did nothing against his strength.
One of his hands moved from my shoulder to grip my bicep. I yelled and kicked but still couldn't do much.
I had even tried to drop all my weight to the ground to slow him down, but that caused something hard to dig into my abdomen, reminding me of Merle's knife. One of my arms was freer because he was only holding on to my shoulder. I reached down and pulled the blade with its sheath out of my pants.
I didn't know if he'd seen what I had. He was probably more concerned with the gunshots and walkers around us. I tried to shake the knife out of the sheath, but it was too tight. I wished then that I'd had my own good knife in a belt, like Rick or Daryl.
With the man's other hand around my bicep, it was difficult to pull my hand close enough to pull the sheath off. But with all the movement, the twisting and turning as he guided me but was also checking around for danger, I finally grabbed onto the leather and pulled it off the sheath, all but tossing it aside.
Anyone tries anythin', aim right here. I remembered Merle's instructions as he tapped his thigh. You stab, and you twist.
Just as I gathered my courage, I let him lead me around for a few moments. I could feel myself shaking; whether from the fear of the situation, or the anxiety of what I was about to do, I couldn't tell.
I took a deep breath and then planted my feet firmly into the ground, straightening my legs to gain some kind of composure against him. I turned the knife in my hand, pulling it up slightly, then I used the momentum of him pulling me back to swing the blade hard behind me.
I gasped when I felt the contact of something I hadn't known if I would miss or not. I didn't miss. I heard him yell, and one of his hands was gone, but I didn't stuff. With a whimper and twinge of fear for how it felt, I twisted the knife as best I could.
He screamed louder, and I was free from both of his hands. I pulled away, almost falling to the ground before gaining balance. I turned to look at him. He was still yelling, his hands open wide with his palms just hovering over his thigh, where the knife's handle stuck out prominently.
The man suddenly launched himself at me, but I stumbled back quickly, then turned and ran away, not wanting to give him another chance.
I kept turning around. I stopped and turned whenever I saw a building or ran near a bleacher bench. I thought I'd heard my name being called a few times, but it could have been my imagination. There was so much happening.
I wanted to run out of the cloud of smoke and dirt, but I felt safer, as dangerous as it was. No one could see me enough to do anything or shoot at me, and I had no idea where the Governor was. I could feel the wound in my leg throbbing but focused on everything else. Daddy was gone, and Merle and Daryl were nowhere in sight. I couldn't just run back into town, which left me to stay in or near the arena.
Hands were on my arm, and I tried to pull away. I'd expected the Governor or the man again with how violently the fingers dug into my flesh. But just as I turned my head, I smelt the rot just before seeing its grey, diseased, dead face. I screamed in terror, trying to pull away.
Gunshots fired, the walker dropped dead, arms wrapped around my waist from behind and lifted me up. The person ran, carrying me further away. We stopped at a light post, and they put me down. I turned around and saw Martinez. I was tired, sore and in a lot of pain. I was sure my pant leg felt wet where my wound was, but I couldn't look; I wouldn't let myself. I didn't know whether to run from Martinez, so I stood there, panting and staring at him.
I knew he was with the Governor, but I liked him. I hoped and silently begged him to help me. He would give me instructions and tell me what to do. Martinez was looking around; he seemed just as lost as I was.
"You're okay?!" He yelled in my face; it was the only way we could hear each other.
"I think so!" I could only just barely hear myself. Then I noticed the gunshots had slowed down. They weren't as frequent or loud, but still there.
Martinez's hand went to my arm, nudging me, "Okay, let's—"
I jerked back in surprise as he was tackled to the ground. It took me a moment to recognize that the attacker was not a walker or one of the Governor's men. Martinez was flat on his back, he tried to get up, turn, and reach for his gun that he'd dropped, but a long blade was suddenly at his neck. He stopped fighting, letting his head and shoulders fall back into the dirt, ceasing to try and regain his weapon.
His SMG was a few feet away from me. I contemplated getting it for myself or kicking it in his direction. Instead, I only froze.
A woman was on top of him, I couldn't see her face, but I could tell by the long hair and body that it was a woman. Her hair was dark, in thick ropey strands that hid her face from my view. Her appearance wasn't what had my focus; it was the sword she held to Martinez's throat. The handle of it was bright white against her very dark skin, the blad long and slightly curved.
I didn't recognize her. I hadn't seen all the Woodbury residents, but I was sure one wouldn't have attacked Martinez.
"Why are you doing this?!" Martinez barked, his teeth clenched hard in anger. I could hear him more clearly than earlier; some of the fighting had calmed down. His voice went lower as if trying to keep a secret but still trying to yell. "I helped you. I let you out!"
"That's why I'll let you live." The woman said evenly. I had to strain to hear; her voice was low, calm and controlled amongst the chaos. "But I'm taking the girl."
Martinez's body jerked as if about to make another move to fight. The sword touched the skin of his throat, digging into it and causing him to freeze. "I'm taking her back to her people."
I probably should have done something. But I still had no idea what side anyone was on. Martinez worked for the Governor, but he was friendly and helped me. Merle worked for the Governor, but he'd lied and betrayed, trying to get back to Daryl. In all the confusion, there was nothing to aid me in what to do. So I only stood and stared, dumbfounded.
Martinez's head was still, but his eyes darted to mine. I was sure he was looking for some kind of answer from me, but the woman's words meant nothing. I had no idea who she was or what she meant.
Martinez's chin seemed to jut in the slightest of movements. The woman stood straight, walking backward over his body, her blade still pointing at him. Martinez took the warning, not moving from the ground.
The woman stepped back beside me; her locks were no longer hiding her face but framing it. Parts of her eye were bruised and swollen, I could tell there was some discolouration, but it was difficult to notice how much with how dark her skin was. There was a large, bloody gash across the bridge of her nose. It almost looked crooked; I wondered if it was broken.
"Toby," she said my name, and I just blinked at her in surprise, my eyes still drawn to the sword. "I'm going to take you to Rick now. Stay close and keep up."
"Rick? Rick is here too?" I blurted, but she was already moving. I followed after her. She was holding out her sword, ready to use. She was running awkwardly. Every few steps turned into an odd hop. Something was wrong with her leg. She was trying to run normally while limping, and it wasn't working. She had told me to keep up, even though she couldn't move properly.
The air was clearing as we ran. We were running out of the smoke and dirt cloud. Other people ran by us must faster than our injured selves. But they didn't take notice, only caring to run away. I'd seen a few walkers as we went; they weren't close enough to do anything; we were fine as long as we kept moving.
Near a building, I saw a flashlight flicker on and off. I was curious, but there was too much going on to question it. The light stayed on most of the time, turning off only briefly. We were running toward it. Turning the corner around the building, the woman stopped, panting, and so did I.
People kept running by us. Each person, each footprint made me turn, afraid it was someone I didn't want near me. Then I saw them. Rick was there; he'd been behind the building, signalling with the flashlight. Maggie was beside him, holding an assault rifle and aiming it behind us.
"Let's go!" Rick hollered, but he wasn't looking at me. I turned and saw Daryl, he had his crossbow back and was holding it up with one hand as he ran. Merle was following close behind.
One of the men yelled at me to move, but I didn't know who. As Daryl closed in, he pushed me forward, and I took that as a command to run. We were all running together in a different direction than the other people. We were going to a darker, quieter part.
I'd been biting my lip, trying to push through the pain in my leg.
Keep going. It's just a graze. Nothing really happened. It's not that bad. It's not that bad.
Just as we neared the main street, one last step was all it took for the pain to stab deep into my muscle, shooting up into my calf to make my leg give out.
I fell hard, catching myself with my palms flat onto the street, the cement digging hard and scrapping my hands.
Maggie heard me fall. She turned with her mouth agape, about to help me but stopped just as I felt hands roughly grabbing under my armpits, helping me back up.
I knew it was Daryl before I looked. Thanks to him, I was standing back on my feet, or well, foot. I held the other one up slightly, not willing or able to put any weight on it again.
I heard a gunshot behind me and quickly looked, but I couldn't see where it came from; no one was behind us.
"We're good," Daryl said airily. "Come on."
I wasn't sure if he hadn't noticed or decided it didn't matter. I listened anyway, the sounds of shouting and more gunshots urging me forward with fear.
"They're all at the arena. This way!" Merle instructed. He ran across the street, passing Rick and Maggie. They had their guns ready, searching around for any kind of danger.
"You're not going anywhere with us!" Rick confuted.
I followed them forward onto the street, telling myself I had to keep going, only a few more steps. Just as I realized that I didn't see her and was about to look around, the woman appeared and passed me, walking over to Rick.
It was hard to tell, but I was sure Rick was glaring at her.
"You really wanna do this now?!" Merle challenged. There were two buses along the wall, probably used as support or security to the wall itself. They were parked facing each other, a gap between them which Merle ran to.
Rick didn't answer him.
I heard Merle banging on the sheets of metal making up the wall to Woodbury. I couldn't see exactly, but I was sure he was kicking and hitting it. Daryl stepped away from me, closer to Rick with his crossbow up, looking around for anyone to attack us.
I took a few steps, trying my best, but each was agony. When I was closer, I could see Merle kicking the wall hard, muttering and swearing at it.
"Come on, man!" Daryl urged, hoping he would hurry up. I hoped the same, constantly looking in the direction we'd come from, waiting for more gunshots or people to find us.
The wall finally gave way, and a panel swung outward swiftly. Upon seeing the exit, I moved forward quickly, forgetting how much my leg hated me for a split second.
I cried out and almost fell again but was lucky enough to catch myself on the bus's hood. Merle turned around to look at me. His expression was nearly wild. Later on, I realized it was probably the noise I'd made; he'd thought something else had happened or we were being attacked.
"What?" I heard Rick's question just behind.
Merle pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, stepping forward, "damnit, c'mere." He leaned forward, and I felt his arm under my knee while the other cradled my shoulders. I wanted to cry out for a new reason, very dissatisfied with him carrying me again.
"What the hell happened to her?" Daryl asked hurriedly. Rick strode ahead of Merle and me, pushing forward the loose metal panel so the opening was easy for Merle to get through.
"She was shot," Maggie said.
"It's a fuckin' graze," Merle snapped. "She's fine!"
"Yeah, and that's why ya gotta carry her?" Daryl argued.
We made it through the wall, and I gasped. Merle just cursed. There were walkers spread out around the street outside of the town. Some were closing in while others were far but headed in our direction.
Merle moved forward more as if wanting to make it by them, but he stopped, realizing it wasn't possible.
"Merle!" I squirmed, trying to get out of his grip as one lunged at us from the side. Merle's one hand, and arm stayed around my shoulder, his other arm dropping my feet harshly. I was still upright with his support, but the unexpected action made my feet slap harshly against the pavement, causing pain to radiate through my bad leg, and I called out.
Merle used that arm, the one encased in his metal, swinging it hard at the walker, smacking it in the jaw and knocking it away. I tried to stand and move away, but Merle held me up firmly. I wasn't sure I could stand on my own, much less run away, so maybe it was best.
"A little help would be nice!" Merle cried out, smacking the walker hard in the skull; blood splattered onto us. The walker was knocked away harder again, but not dead. "I only got one hand, and I'm usin' it right now!"
A bolt shot through the walker's head, and it fell. I heard a gunshot right behind me; I screamed and jumped, almost escaping Merle's grip. I turned and saw Maggie, heart still racing.
"It's me," she assured knowingly. Holding out her pistol, the assault rifle then slung at her back. She shot twice more; two walkers fell close by. "He's still not here, Rick."
"Who?" I asked.
"Tyreese," Rick answered suddenly in front of me. "Can you walk?"
"I-I dunno," I was sure the answer was no, but I didn't want it to be. I felt weak and useless.
"Move," he commanded. I almost did, but he bent down in front of me, realizing he was speaking to Merle. "I'll take her. You need your hand."
"Wait—" I tried to argue, but Rick had already shouldered his gun and was lifting me as Merle had, but this time, two hands held me, and Rick had a much firmer grip, holding me tightly against his chest. I narrowed my eyes up at his face. I hated everything about it. I hated being touched, I hated being carried, I hated being useless. The one person I least wanted to see me that way was Rick. I hated Merle carrying me, and I actually liked him at some point.
"Do we leave him?" Maggie agonized, looking back at the wall. "We can't . . ."
"Damn it, Tyreese!" Rick exclaimed.
"We can't stay here, we have to go now!" Daryl urged.
I felt Rick shift his grip on me, his eyes to my legs. "She's bleeding. How bad as it?" Rick began jogging forward. Maggie and Daryl were ahead.
"What?" I said urgently, realizing how wet my leg felt. I tried to lean forward to look, but he held me tighter. "But it was fixed!"
"She popped her stitches," Merle said.
"Stitches?!" Daryl turned his head and glared, "she—"
"—Will ya get off my ass?! We don't have time for this!" Merle ran faster, going ahead of us.
Rick ran with me in his arms for a long time. I could tell it was getting more difficult for him as time went on. I wasn't sure how long we'd been moving, but the sky was lighter. It was either morning or close to.
"Hold up," Rick panted.
"We should keep moving," Maggie pleaded, looking around anxiously.
Rick leant down and placed me on the ground, crouching beside me. "Just a minute, she's still bleeding."
Daryl was at my side quickly. I felt my wet pant-leg being pulled up. I was sitting on my butt with my knees bent upwards. I almost leant forward to try and see how much blood, but Daryl's expression surprised me. His expression was quickly angered, and he turned his head to Merle, who was leaning against a tree and panting.
"A graze?" Daryl fumed.
"What? It ain't that bad!" Merle looked away and lowered his tone. "Just don't let her look at it."
I furrowed my eyebrows at that, then leaned forward, only to get flicked in the forehead by Daryl. "Hey!"
"You heard him," Daryl grumbled.
"Daryl . . ." I tried to say something but trailed off. "Is it . . ."
I watched him pull some fabric out of his back pocket. "Your leg looks like shit. That's all you gotta know. But he's right. It just looks worse than it is. Pull that down, I got this, but it ain't clean. Gonna have to do."
Rick pulled my pant-leg down, and Daryl twisted his bandana, so it was a thick strip, then began to tie it around my calf. I whined and winced as he tightened it.
"Yeah," he empathized.
"M'sorry," I mumbled to him. He met my eyes and pursed his lips. I didn't have to say what I was sorry for. Leaving, arguing, causing all this.
Daryl nodded knowingly, "I know. Let's just go. I'll take her."
"No," Rick had already put his arms around me, lifting me up. "You need to keep an eye on him."
I tried to say something else, thinking maybe I could at least try to go on my own for a while. But everyone had already started moving again. I realized that even if I could walk on my own for a bit longer, I couldn't keep pace with the rest of them.
The sky brightened quickly. It was morning when we finally got to wherever we were going.
"Car's just ahead," Rick commented, huffing as we went. "Glenn!"
"Rick?" I'd barely heard Glenn's voice, then I saw him a distance away, through the trees and on the street. "Rick?!"
Rick stopped briefly, turning to Daryl, "here, help her. This isn't going to go well."
Rick slowly put me down. Daryl put an arm around my back to help me.
"You good?" Daryl asked me.
I nodded, "hurts, though."
Fortunately, Daryl didn't pick me up. He only helped me forward. I leaned on him more than I wanted to, but all the running and moving had made my leg feel a lot worse.
I could see Glenn jogging toward us, wearing a green sweatshirt and a gun in his right hand. I felt relieved to see him. I saw Oscar's tall, dark figure walking behind him.
"Rick," Glenn called again as he got closer, "Toby! You found her. Oh, thank God."
Rick sped ahead of us, rapidly closing in on Glenn. I didn't miss that his one hand was held over the gun in his holster. "Now we got a problem here. I need you to back up."
My confusion lasted for barely a second before Glenn raised his gun toward us and started yelling. "What the hell is he doing here?!"
Glenn's gun was aimed our way. I jumped back in surprise at his outburst. Daryl quickly let me go, rushing forward with an arm outstretched at Glenn, "Hey, put it down!"
I stumbled backward without the support, the yelling, the weapons, and everyone just freaking me out. I stood back, staying away out of fear.
Merle was a few feet away from me, also a hand out to protect himself. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He stepped whenever Daryl moved, staying behind his younger brother.
Oscar was behind Glenn. He'd had a gun out too but wasn't aiming, only watching as if waiting for an okay or an order to use it. The dark woman turned on Rick, taking Glenn's side and loudly slipping the sword off her back. Even Maggie had turned in our direction, taking Glenn's side and aiming her gun. Though she looked more unsure, constantly looking at Glenn as if waiting for permission to shoot.
"Hey, hey, hey! Hey, put it down!" Rick protested, taking out his silver handgun to aim at her.
Daryl continued to shout at Glenn, "Put it down!"
"Look what he did! If it wasn't for him—" Glenn tried to say before Daryl cut him off.
"—He helped us get out of there."
"Yeah, right after he beat the shit out of you," Rick glanced at Daryl quickly. As much as I hated it, he did have a point.
"Hey, we both took our licks, man," Merle said dismissively.
"Jackass."
"Hey, shut up!"
"Enough!" Rick turned his head to yell at Merle.
Rick's brief inattention allowed the woman to try and go around him, pointing her sword at Merle. Rick stepped in front of her, stopping her again, "Hey, hey, put that down now!"
"He tried to kill me!" The woman shouted at Rick.
Merle just kept shouting defences, looking appalled, scared and confused at the same time. "What you gonna do? You gonna cuff me, hey?"
With that, I was reminded of what Rick had done to Merle, how he'd been left behind. The situation must have been in Merle's head as well, afraid something like that may happen again. I felt the same, feeling scared and panicked, I wanted them to stop. It didn't help that Daryl was standing in front of Glenn's gun. I didn't think Glenn would do anything to Daryl, but even I knew that you were only supposed to have your gun out when you meant to shoot it.
"Just stop it! Leave him alone!" I shouted, wanting it all to end. I mostly mean Merle, but could have been talking about either brother. I wasn't on Merle's side really. I wasn't happy with him at all, but he wasn't aiming a gun at anybody.
"Toby, stay out of it!" Daryl called out at me, keeping his eyes on Glenn.
"Hey, don't yell at the kid," Merle protested.
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, "you've been yellin' at me all day!"
Merle looked offended, lashing back, "well, you've been bitchy as fuck all day!"
"Don't talk to her like that!" Daryl spun on him, forgetting about Glenn.
Merle had an incredulous, lost expression. His eyes constantly switched from me to Daryl several times. Then he waves his arms between us, "what the fuck's been goin' on here?!"
Daryl shook his head, "Relax!" Then he turned on Glenn, "get that thing out of my face!"
Merle leaned against the tree, chuckling, "man, looks like you've gone native, brother."
Daryl turned around, waving his hand while glaring at Merle, "no more than you; hangin' out with that psycho back there!"
"Oh, yeah, man. He is a charmer, I got to tell you that. She can tell you all 'bout that, ain't that right, honey?"
The woman with the sword lurched forward again. Rick stopped her quickly, "I told you to drop that!"
"What are you talking about?" Maggie demanded, still holding out her gun.
"My Nubian queen here had two pet walkers. No arms, cut off the jaws, kept them in chains. Kind of ironic now that I think about it—"
"—Shut up, bro."
"Hey, man, we snagged her and her pets out of the woods, been on her own for too long. Just so happened the Governor took a . . . special likin' to her."
"What the hell does that mean?"
Even Merle began to look uncomfortable. "Not for me to say."
"Oh, now you shut up?"
"Had her locked up, man, that's as much as I'll get into that."
Everyone turned to look at the woman, staring her down. As if watching her would give them any answer they wanted.
Then I remembered Merle and Martinez were talking about the 'black bitch'. Slowly, I lowered myself to the ground. I couldn't stand it anymore. I'd been putting all my weight onto my good leg, and it was beginning to feel sore and tired. I'd mostly stayed standing because of Rick; he looked angry and erratic. I was afraid he would do something to Merle. I had to block out the memory of Shane in the alley, telling myself the situation was completely different. I was still afraid that the outcome might be the same. Once they were talking about the black woman and Rick's concentration seemed to shift onto her, I felt assured he wouldn't do anything. I let myself sit on the ground and relax a little.
"A colleague of mine," Merle went on. "Felt bad, helped her escape. Then she came right back and took the Governor's eye. Gotta say, love the gusto of it, but she was 'bout to be thrown right back in that cell."
"That's why you went back. Not for our people, you needed back up to get in and out. You wanted to get revenge?"
The woman only stared, her expression tight with an emotion I couldn't decipher.
"Your plan was to get to him, you were trying to lead us to him."
"She wanted us to go look in the Governor's apartment for them," Oscar said. "Before . . . before we were told where they might be kept."
"You were trying to lead us there."
"I was going to kill him," the woman finally said.
"So what you gonna do now, Sheriff, huh?" Merle sounded smug. "Surrounded by a bunch of liars, thugs, and cowards."
"Shut up," Rick told him.
"Oh, man, look at this. Pathetic," Merle continued on anyway. "All these guns and no bullets in me."
"Merle, shut up!" Daryl warned.
"Shut up yerself!" Merle pushed himself off the tree, yelling back at them fiercely. "Bunch of pussies you roll—"
Rick raised his gun, not in aim but over Merle's head, then quickly brought it down onto his skull. I jumped back and gasped. Merle's body fell hard to the ground.
My jaw went slack in surprise, looking back up at Rick. I felt panicked, my arms braced and ready to launch myself at him. No one else was really reacting or caring, not even Daryl.
Rick only looked at Daryl, then turned away, muttering, "asshole."
Daryl met my eyes, then only shrugged at my expression. I wanted to yell at Rick, but apparently, I was alone. I relaxed the tension in my arms upon seeing Merle's back rising and falling. He was still breathing, and Rick made no sign of doing anything further to him.
"We have to discuss this before we move on. But we can't stay here much longer," Rick said.
"There's nothing to discuss!" Glenn declared.
Daryl turned on him. "Exactly. He's my brother, I'm not leavin' him."
"He can't come with us!"
"Enough," Rick reached out a hand to calm them. "Let's go to the cars. We'll have a group discussion. Merle isn't our only problem right now."
I followed Rick's eyes to the sword lady, who only glared back.
I started to get up before Daryl stopped me.
"Stay with Merle for a few. Holler if ya see a Walker. You can keep an eye on the last samurai too, so she doesn't try anythin'."
I raised an eyebrow at Daryl but stayed on the ground.
"You are not leaving her alone with him," Maggie said.
"He ain't gonna do nothin' to her! He's on his ass right now, anyway."
"No. I'm not okay with that."
"I don't wanna walk no more," I said. My voice was much more of a whine than I cared for. "And Daryl don't want me there 'cause it's a grown-up talk. I been with Merle all day."
Maggie frowned but seemed to ease at my words.
"You're okay with this?" She asked me.
I nodded.
"This is ridiculous," Glenn muttered, turning and walking away.
"Maggie has a point," Rick said. "Should we leave her alone with those two?"
Daryl shrugged.
"Can't leave the two alone together. She helped Toby before, and he's not gonna do nothin' to the kid," Daryl looked at the woman. "Can ya hold off and not chop my brother up in front of her?"
The woman took her time before finally stepping back and sheathing the sword. "Fine. As long as he doesn't try anything."
"Great, awesome," Daryl commented sarcastically, leading Rick away toward the road. "What a fuckin' mess this is."
The woman audibly sighed, though it had an aggressive sound to it, almost as if she was holding in a growl as she stared down at Merle's body. After staring for a few moments, she strode toward a tree, then lowered herself to sit under it.
I tried to relieve some of the awkwardness. "Thank you . . . for before."
She nodded. "You're welcome."
"So . . . Tyreese is there now?"
"He saved me," she pursed her lips. "I couldn't save him."
"That sucks."
"It does."
"Why're you here?"
She looked at me then. Her piercing gaze seemed to go right through me, and I felt embarrassed, thinking I'd asked the wrong question.
"I just mean . . . who are you?"
"Michonne. I was in Woodbury before. They held me prisoner like you."
"I don't think I was a prisoner."
"Your friends were. Let me guess, they tried to entice you with the prospect of a normal life."
"I . . . I guess? I had a burger if that's what ya mean."
The side of her mouth twitched upward, seemingly amused, "Yeah. That's what I mean. I promised your people that I'd help them get into Woodbury to find you and the others."
"Oh." I acknowledged her words, even though I still didn't understand the situation. "But how do you know . . . my people?" That wording felt odd, incorrect. Like I had been staking some claim to them.
Michonne kept staring at me, her expression apologetic. "I was there when you were taken, hiding. I heard them talk about the prison before Merle found you and forced you to go with him. I went there myself, met Rick and the others. Told them what happened."
I looked back at Merle's dead-weight body, checking for the rise and fall of his chest. I knew he was only knocked out, but I still felt unease about it. At Michonne's words, I recalled the morning before how confused and adamant I'd been to tell Glenn and Maggie that it was only Merle. That nothing terrible was happening. I felt angry at Merle for lying to me about hiding them somewhere in Woodbury, possibly more furious with myself for believing him.
"That's why they're all here?" I asked out loud, looking out to the street. I could see the group standing in a corner; the conversation looked intense. I realized that if this woman had not been there, had not gone to the prison, we may have still been in Woodbury. Then what? Would I have been escaping with Merle? Would he have left without me? Would Maggie and Glenn have died?
"You're out now. There's no use agonizing over it."
My eyes went back to Michonne. My thoughts must have been read all over my face. Then I saw that hers were too, and she was asking the same questions. Just not about Glenn or me or Maggie.
I didn't feel scared or uncomfortable about this woman. In fact, something in me wanted to move and sit closer to her. Maybe I'd just felt easily protected. Even though she was obviously injured, she saved me in Woodbury. I had many questions for her, one of them being about what she had claimed about Merle, that he'd tried to kill her. That question felt out of bounds, and it seemed like she wasn't the only one Merle tried to kill. Anything about him, I would wait to ask, because even though I kind of liked this woman somehow, I couldn't believe everything she said. Daryl and Rick didn't trust her, and Oscar didn't seem thrilled about her presence either.
With or without my opinion of Michonne, I still wanted to be careful. I scolded myself, already thinking I'd crossed a line in my many questions. She didn't look annoyed, but I was waiting for her to be.
"Can I ask one other thing?" I asked cautiously.
Michhone raised an eyebrow at me, but not in a negative way. Just to show she was paying attention.
"Can I see your sword?"
Again, her expression levitated, providing her with a less tense look. Reaching behind her back, Michonne pulled the sword from its white sheath. Then turned the handle in my direction.
I took it slowly, it was heavier than expected. Laying the blade out on my lap, I traced my fingers over the metal. "You can kill Walkers with this?" The answer seemed obvious, but I still looked toward her for an affirmative. When she nodded, I looked back at the weapon.
"That's really cool. Can I use one?" I wanted to ask if I could use hers, even just to try. But I knew that would be pushing it. I felt like Carl whenever he found a new comic book.
"If you can find one."
I heard a groan and jolted, for a split second thinking a Walker was closing in. Then I noticed Merle was starting to move.
Michonne took the sword from me, I was dismayed, but didn't protest. I noticed that she didn't put it away, but instead held it out at the ready, watching Merle closely.
Merle groaned and moaned, rolling over after a few moments. "The hell . . ."
He sat up, looking slightly startled at the sight of Michonne, but quickly made his expression passive while eyeing her.
"What happened?" Merle asked. He was looking at Michonne but somehow I knew he was asking me.
"Sheriff hit ya. Hard," I said, repeating Merle's name for Rick.
"Of course he fuckin' did. Asshole. Where's Daryl?"
"You did it to yourself," Michonne said in her husky tone.
I frowned and nodded, "better ta keep yer mouth shut rather than go blabberin' on."
Merle scoffed, "I ain't taken a page from yer daddy's book."
I was taken aback, surprised he'd known that was from my dad. Maybe he had heard it from daddy in Woodbury. As I thought on it, I was sure I vaguely remembered telling Merle something like that; back at the Atlanta camp. Was that it? Had he remembered after so long?
Merle's eyes narrowed as he straightened up, "so what, they leave me with you so you can finish me off. That it?"
"I'm the babysitter this time," I said, frowning at him. He'd complained about being one with me so I was trying to sound as annoyed as he was at the time. Although I was actually kind of happy about it, everyone was so angry with Merle that I was trusted with some type of authority. It seemed that way anyway. I turned and pointed to the road. "Daryl's over there with everyone. They're all pissed at ya. He's mad too, didn't even say anythin' when Rick hit ya."
Merle was so quiet I had to look back and make sure he was still there. He was just watching the group in the distance.
"You hurt Glenn really bad."
"All business, kid. Wasn't personal."
"Some business," Michonne commented.
Merle only shook his head. I noticed Michonne gripped her sword harder, and her body tensed as he stood. Merle rubbed the back of his head and stretched, then just looked around.
I wanted to ask Merle about what happened to Glenn and Maggie. I was starting to understand the what, the why I couldn't get behind. It wasn't the time to ask, he wouldn't answer, and I didn't want to start the conversation when the others could walk over at any point. I wanted to talk about it privately with him, because, with the others, he would never be free to just say an answer, they would always contradict it. Maybe he would just lie, I didn't know, but I still wanted to hear it from him.
We were all silent for a long time. I checked on the others once in a while, but they just stayed huddled and talked. We weren't that close to Woodbury, but I was still uncomfortable and wanted to leave. What if they came and found us?
When their voices raised, I looked over again. They weren't yelling but their voices were louder, I thought I heard them call Daryl's name a few times. Daryl was walking away from them toward the car. As I watched, he strode over without hesitation, then proceeded to open the trunk and dig through. Rick had followed, continuing to talk. Daryl took something out, a bag, swung it over his shoulder then slammed the trunk.
When Daryl started walking toward us alone, I knew something was wrong, I wasn't sure how, but something in my gut just told me and sunk down deep. I felt sick. Though it could have had something to do with the pain in my leg, exhaustion, and adrenalin wearing off from the night.
When Daryl was close, Rick finally started to follow; he'd stayed behind at the car for a few beats. Far back, I could see Glenn, Maggie and Oscar. Maggie had her arms crossed while she walked with Glenn to come to us, but they were slow, almost hesitant. Oscar stayed on the road.
Something was wrong. Maybe we were going to go back for Tyreese?
I stood up carefully, it was difficult, but I managed. I stood as Daryl came closed in, allowing all my weight onto one leg, the other resting.
"So, little brother," Merle said. "What's the verdict?"
Daryl's eye looked over me to Merle, "we're leavin'."
"Leavin'?" I echoed, eyeing the bag he carried.
"They don't want Merle at the prison. This is the way it's gotta be," Daryl explained, looking me in the eye.
I saw Maggie and Glenn had stopped several feet away, close enough to intervene and listen but still holding themselves back for some reason. Maggie looked more upset than before, and Glenn . . . his face was so bruised I really couldn't tell how he looked.
"Daryl," Rick pleaded behind him. "It doesn't need to be like this."
"No him, no me. That's all I can say."
"We started something last night. What about Tyreese? We need you for this."
"I don't know, man. I don't. You'll figure it out, make a plan or . . . it ain't on me. This is what's happenin'."
There was an agonizing silence after Daryl's statement. I was still trying to figure out what it all meant.
"So . . ." Looking around at the others, even glancing at Merle behind me before turning back to Daryl, finally beginning to understand. "We ain't goin' back to the prison?"
Daryl's expression shifted; he looked uncomfortable. Swallowing nervously before dropping the bomb that tore my insides to shreds. "You are. We're not."
I felt my eyes squint, not understanding. "You're leavin' with Merle, you ain't goin' back to the prison. At all?"
Daryl's lips pursed, and he shook his head.
Leaving. Gone. Forever. I started registering it. He was leaving the group; he was telling me I was going to the prison while he and Merle left to live somewhere else.
"Well, I'm comin' too," I said quickly, glancing at Merle again, who just wore a crooked grin. At first, I just guessed he thought I wouldn't want to go, thinking I wanted to go back to the prison for some reason. That was stupid, especially with the stunt I pulled to get away from that place.
"No, you're not."
"Huh?" I mumbled dumbly.
"Why not?" Merle questioned, his tone cheery. "Kid wants to come, let her come."
I was grateful for just a moment when I saw his agreement had not swayed Daryl's expression.
"No, she can't go out there. She's injured," Maggie interjected.
I glared at her, anger bubbling up as I finally realized the gravity of the situation. "It's a fuckin' graze, I'm fine!"
"See?"
"Merle, back off," Daryl snapped at Merle, then his eyes went back to mine. "You can't come, Toby. You almost died from the fuckin' sniffles last time you were on the road."
"No, I didn't," I argued, knowing full well it was a lie. "It was fine."
He wouldn't leave. Daryl can't leave. I can go too. It's fine. I kept telling myself all of that and more, thinking of ways to convince him. I'd convinced myself he would change his mind. There was no way Daryl would leave.
Daryl's eyebrows went up. "Fine, huh? How's the ear feel then?"
Caught off guard, my expression faltered. That was all he needed to nod and silently convey that I'd proved his point.
"Oh, the ear thing?" Merle's tone was neutral, it sounded like no big deal. "That's all good now! She saw the doc in Woodbury and got the medicine. Uncle Merle did his job, didn't he, darlin'?"
His grin was wide when I glanced at him. I nodded fervently, looking back at Daryl, but he was staring angrily at Merle.
"Uncle Merle? What the hell, man? You want to be responsible for her? Drag a kid around in the shit?"
"I don't got a problem, up to her."
"Yeah!" I agreed quickly.
"She's a kid!" Glenn argued. "That's not her call!"
"You're still sick," Daryl looked at me again, ignoring Merle's response. "You ain't better and you know it. Don't downplay that shit, you know how bad it was, we got lucky findin' you that medicine. Merle has no idea what he's talkin' 'bout, you need medicine and you can't be out there."
I opened my mouth but Merle interrupted, stepping up beside me.
"You mean this shit?" Merle held up the pill bottle, my eyes widened with surprise. I had no idea we had it with him. "Don't play me for some dumbass, I know shit. Girl needs meds, and I brought 'em, there, simple. I'm sure the kid knows 'nough not to get herself killed."
"And if she does, that's on us!" Daryl reached into his pocket, showing the pill bottle from the prison. "We had medicine for her. And you wouldn't've had to get her more if ya hadn't taken her."
"That don't matter!" I blurted. Desperate to steer the conversation away from Woodbury. "I got two bottles now. That's lots! Hershel said I only need to finish one!"
"That ain't the point."
"Hershel said s'ong as I took the pills, I'd get better. I'm gettin' better! I just have to keep takin' 'em. I can take 'em out there."
"It ain't just 'bout the pills, girl," Daryl stroked a hand over his face, looking tired. "We can't take care of ya out there."
Merle huffed, "speak for yerself."
"You had her for a day and got her shot!" Daryl snapped.
"Jesus, I didn't shoot her!"
"No, you just let it happen." Maggie huffed.
My eyes went to Rick as he stepped forward, finally giving his two cents which no one asked for. "All winter we were on the road. You've already been through that. Wouldn't you rather be at the prison?"
"No!" I shouted at Rick with no hesitation. The others were all looking at me, sympathetic and sad. They were just letting Merle and Daryl leave, and they wanted me to let them leave too. "I'm not goin' without Daryl."
"Just let her do what she wants! We're wastin' the day," Merle told them, sounding annoyed.
"Shut up, man!"
"Kid wants to roll with the Dixon's, can't blame her. Look at all the pussies you got her 'round all day. No wonder she snuck out."
I saw Glenn lurch forward, his teeth showing that his jaw was clenched tight, but Maggie grabbed his arm and stopped him.
"She says she can handle it," I felt Merle's hand on my shoulder. I felt embarrassed that he was talking about me, but I hoped Daryl would listen. "She got a taste of what it's like to be a Dixon! Yeah, it's shitty as fuck out here, but the kid knows 'nough to make the right call."
"Being without shelter, without people, is not the right call!" Maggie said.
"Oh, we're not people 'nough for ya?"
"You sure aren't."
Merle just rolled his eyes and looked down at me with a shrug. "Be better out there. Governor knows where ya'll live. Gonna mow the place down any time now."
"No," Daryl stepped forward, his face very close to Merle's. "They'll figure that shit out. Defend it or find a new place. Prison's the safest place for her."
"Not if the Governor's as bad as they're sayin'!" I said.
"He's worse," Merle said. Daryl shoved him in the chest, causing Merle to stumble back. "Hey, watch yourself!"
"Will ya knock it the fuck off? She ain't comin'!" Daryl turned to me. I looked at Merle, but he'd stepped and turned away. "You're goin' back with them. You're not comin' with us. I don't want you to."
My body was frozen. I kept coming up with more arguments, more things to say. I even considered challenging him. How would they stop me from going? What would the group do, lock me in a cell?
My fight had disappeared, though. No matter what else I had to say, nothing would come out. Daryl's face was tight with anger as he stared at me. It was final. He wouldn't budge.
I don't want you to.
I don't want you . . .
It felt as if my insides had deflated. I stepped back away from him, awkwardly as I'd forgotten about my leg in the argument.
Daryl straightened up, shifting his crossbow and bag on his back to a better position. "Let Hershel look at yer leg when ya get back. I know ya ain't happy with it, but listen to Rick and stay with the group. Help 'em out, do what you're told and don't cause any more trouble."
My lip was quivering, and I blinked fast to stop the tears, but they fell anyway. Large drops blurred my vision before dropping down my cheeks hastily. "You . . . you can't leave."
"It's the way it's gotta be. You're gonna be fine. You're a tough kid."
At any other point and time, I may have bristled with pride at that comment. But it was a lie. I had never been tough, and I certainly wasn't standing there trying not to fall apart.
Daryl reached over and ripped the pill bottle out of Merle's hand. Then he held out the two bottles in one palm to me.
I stared at his hand, at the two different bottles. Instead of taking them, I turned my head away. I heard him sigh, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him hand the bottles to someone else. Rick was the only one behind me, so it had to be him.
When Daryl looked back at me, I closed my eyes. I could feel him watching me, but I couldn't look; I couldn't talk. This was done, over. After a long, torturous moment, I heard his footsteps., then a second pair, walking further away.
"Come on, bro."
I wasn't sure how long I stood like that. It felt like forever. When I finally opened my eyes, Daryl and Merle were far away, arms around each other as they walked. Even through the whole argument, I hadn't believed it. I didn't think it would really happen. But it was. I was watching it.
Daryl turned his head to look back at us, and I quickly turned around. Not wanting him to see me or share a look.
I stood with my back to the brothers, wiping my face as I tried to compose myself.
I saw Rick walk away from me and over to Michonne, who had been sitting in the same place the whole time. I'd completely forgotten about her.
"We patch you up, and you are gone," Rick growled lowly at her.
It felt as if an earthquake had ripped through my body. "Will ya just fuck off! No one gives a shit what ya have'ta say just shut up and fuck the hell off!"
My body shook with anger and much more emotions I couldn't even begin to decipher. Then I started toward the road, limping badly but forcing myself to feel the pain. Anything felt better than the storm brewing inside me. My insides felt like they were tearing apart, and a tightening in my chest kept threatening my ability to breathe.
I didn't know when or how it happened. But I was getting into a car with Maggie, she was wrapping her arm around me in the back seat, but I shoved her off with a sob. Then, instead of backing.
"Go away," I mumbled, wiping the tears again.
"I'm not going anywhere," instead of hugging me, her one hand went to my back, rubbing it gently. Her other hand went to my free one and squeezed. I let her but refused to look at her. I turned my head in the opposite direction from her, watching out the window as the vehicle began moving. I had no idea who was sitting up front or who was driving. I didn't care.
Maggie grasped my hand tightly, unwavering as the car moved. I felt something odd at my wrist and looked down. There was a slight bulge in that pocket, reminding me of Martinez, who'd handed it to me on the way to the arena. I shook off Maggie's hand. My own felt clammy from our shared heat. Taking out the bundle of material, I unravelled it.
It was Shane's necklace.
It looked different, though, free of the black smudges, old blood, dirt, grime and scratches. It was polished, new, and clean. When I turned the pendant the right way, I could see myself, only a little, but it was clear. I caught sight of one of my puffy red eyes from crying. I sniffled and lifted the chain, sliding it over my head until the cold metal fell at my chest, sliding under my shirt. I felt a sense of relief wearing it again. I'd forgotten it was lost amidst the chaos and was glad to have it back.
I remembered wondering if I'd lost it before I showered. It had slipped off while I'd taken off my shirts in the past, but I always noticed and put it on. I guessed this was what happened. Martinez had taken my old clothes, the necklace must've come off, and he'd found it and cleaned it.
Maggie didn't retake my hand, and I didn't take hers, but her other stayed on my back, stroking gently. Using my free hand, I reached up and felt the outline of the metal pendant through my shirt, staring out the window.
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