The Wolf You Feed
Chapter 49
Rowan rubbed Spencer's back and tried to avoid the overpowering smell of vomit by breathing through her mouth instead of her nose. The last thing they needed was for her to start vomiting along with him. Spencer rinsed his mouth out with a swig from her canteen and spit the water onto the ground. He hung his head as he fought back another urge to empty whatever little was left inside his stomach.
"I couldn't do it," Spencer admitted, his voice full of shame. Rowan didn't have to ask what he was talking about. She knew he meant he hadn't been able to kill. And she didn't think any less of Spencer because of his inability to murder another human. If anything, she had more respect for her kind and generous friend than she had before. "It's my job to protect her and I couldn't do it," Spencer added. Rowan knew he was talking about his girlfriend Rosie.
"It's ok," Rowan said, wishing she had something better to say but nothing was coming to mind. She stayed quiet and scooted in closer, wrapping her arm around Spencer's broad back, offering him the comfort of her caring touch instead of her words.
They were sitting far enough away from the building that the sound of the alarm wasn't ear piercing. But the loud noise was constant and it had been going on long enough to start wearing on Rowan's nerves. Spencer had finally recovered from his bout of nausea and was holding a loaded handgun in one hand. His other hand was wrapped around Rowan's slimmer one. She was using her free hand to hold Carol's binoculars. Every once in a while she lifted them and looked through the lenses. But there was still nothing to see except the front of the building.
Tank and Carol had long since disappeared inside and no one had come out. At least not from the doors that were visible to her. It had already been late into the night when they arrived. Now it was bordering on early morning. Rowan could feel the fatigue in her body, both from the constant state of anxiety she had been in all night, and from her pregnancy. She was starting to daydream about going home and filling the large tub in the spare bathroom with hot water and scented oils. Daryl wasn't much of a bathtub soaker but she knew he would get in with her if she asked. Then she could lean back against his chest and close her eyes while the warmth of the water relaxed all her muscles. More than anything she was ready for this night to be over.
"What are you thinking about?," Spencer asked with a grin. Rowan realized she must have moaned out loud while she was thinking about her bath and started giggling.
"I was thinking about taking a bath," she admitted before adding, "...and not by myself."
Spencer laughed along with her as he yanked his hand away and started wiping it on the leg of his jeans. Like she had dirtied him up thinking about sex while she held his hand. Rowan giggled again.
"I think I'm getting punch drunk from lack of sleep," she announced. Spencer nodded his agreement. He had lost an entire night of sleep. And all he had accomplished was making a total ass out of himself. Spencer was thinking he should have listened to his mother and stayed home. He didn't know who he thought he was kidding. He wasn't a wolf. He wasn't even sure if he could be considered a house dog at this point.
The sirens finally stopped. The sudden silence was almost more unnerving than the noise had been. Rowan stood up and set the binoculars down on the bumper of the camper. Her ears were ringing. She reached her arms above her head and stretched. Suddenly Spencer was on his feet next to her. He grabbed her hard by the upper part of her arm and yanked her body towards him.
"Watch out," he hollered. Rowan stumbled when Spencer released his grip just as quickly as he had grabbed her. The loud crack of his handgun broke the silence. Rowan turned, expecting to see a walker. Instead she saw a strange man fall to his knees, grabbing his arm where Spencer had shot him. Rowan regained her balance. She took one step, grabbing for the long stick she used for fighting. It was leaning against the side of the camper and now she was cursing at herself for not keeping in on her at all times. Daryl and her dad were constantly after her about keeping her weapons on her and not leaving them lying around. But it was already too late.
"Don't fucking move." Rowan could feel the muzzle of a gun pressed against the side of her head. Someone had a firm grip on her upper arm The voice sounded like it belonged to a woman.
"Drop it now or I'll shoot her." This time the woman was speaking to Spencer. He hesitated for a moment before dropping his gun on the ground in front of him. Another woman besides the one that was holding onto Rowan stepped forward and picked Spencer's gun up, tucking it into the back of her pants. Rowan felt a momentary pang of relief. They might be kidnapped but at least it was by women. Which meant of all the bad things that might happen, at least she wasn't going to be sexually assaulted.
The man Spencer had shot was getting louder. He was clearly in terrible pain. His arm was bleeding. The smell and the noise was starting to attract walkers. While the same woman that had grabbed the gun tied a terrible makeshift tourniquet onto the man's arm, Rowan was able to get a better look at her kidnappers. The only man was the one Spencer had shot. Besides him there were three women. The one that had grabbed her had red hair and seemed to be in charge. There was an older woman with a nasty rumble in her chest and a younger woman with dark hair. Rowan could tell Spencer was sizing the women up, trying to figure out if he could take them and escape without getting himself or Rowan hurt.
The three women herded Spencer and Rowan away from the camper. Since more walkers were coming, attracted to the man's cries and the blood on the ground, it seemed like the best idea to go where the women were ordering them to go. Before they could get too far, the sound of a motorcycle drew everyone's attention. The red haired woman lifted Carol's binoculars and looked through.
"Shit," she cursed, "they got Primo."
When it appeared that the man called Primo was going to be killed, the red haired woman pulled out a radio and yelled into it, telling Rick to lower his gun. Rowan had a brief moment of relief when it was clear the women holding them captive intended to use both her and Spencer as hostages to get their friend Primo back and not just kill them outright. But then she heard her father start screaming. His voice was coming through the walkie but he was roaring so loud that even if the woman had switched the radio off everyone within a mile still would have been able to hear him.
"That your husband?," the older woman asked Rowan, looking in the direction the screaming was coming from with her eyes wide.
"My dad," Rowan admitted. Holding back that information didn't seem to have any benefit to her. In fact, her father's reaction seemed to have shocked the women that had kidnapped her. The redhead only looked slightly concerned. But the other two women looked like they would be happy to let her go and make a run for it. SInce they already appeared to be frightened, Rowan thought that it couldn't hurt to let them know who they were messing with. "My husband is the one with the crossbow," she added, "you should let us go and leave before they get here if you want to live."
If he wasn't being held at gunpoint, Spencer would have burst out laughing. As it was, just a small smirk crossed his face. He was now a part of Rowan's crazy extended family and even he was intimidated by the crazy fit that Rowan's dad was throwing. He couldn't imagine what these strangers thought about it. And the fact that he, Rowan, and everyone else in their group had their faces painted up like old school Indian warriors was probably adding to the illusion that they were all completely psycho.
Spencer was preparing to add his urges to Rowan's and suggest that these women let them go now and live to fight another day. But then Rick's voice came back over the radio. He requested to speak to both Spencer and Rowan to make sure they were alright.
"Don't do anything stupid," the redhead hissed before thrusting the radio in front of Spencer's face. He just stated his name and said he was unharmed. The woman nodded her approval before shoving the radio at Rowan.
"Topa oyate, wihinyanpat!,." Rowan spit into the radio before the woman could snatch it back from her. Spencer wasn't sure what she said but he had a strong feeling that she had just alerted the rest of the group to their location. Before the women could even react to her yelling foreign words into the radio, Rowan pursed her lips and let out the longest and loudest whistle Spencer had ever heard her make. The people holding them captive assumed she was just trying to alert their companions to their position. But Spencer knew what she was really doing. She was calling for Tank.
The redhead swung her arm, intending to hit Rowan in the face with the radio. But Rowan was expecting this maneuver. She jerked her head back and the heavy object sailed harmlessly through the air, just missing the tip of her nose. Spencer moved quickly. He turned on the older woman that was holding her gun on him. She was distracted by the confrontation between her companion and Rowan. Spencer lunged at her, grabbing for the gun in her hands. The force of his larger body sent her sprawling backwards onto the ground. She landed hard, the back of her head smashing against a rock. A rapidly growing puddle of blood was already spreading out around her by the time Spencer got to his feet with the gun in his hands. He turned back towards Rowan.
The redheaded woman had dropped the walkie and was going after Rowan with a large hunting knife. She swiped at Rowan with the knife. Rowan stepped back and out of the way but not quick enough. The knife slashed a hole in her shirt, narrowly missing the round swell of her pregnant stomach. This time Spencer did not throw up. He did not run. He did not hesitate. He lifted the gun in his hands and fired at the woman. The first bullet caught her in the shoulder, spinning her around to face him. The next one caught her straight in the middle of the chest. As she slowly sunk to the ground, Spencer shot her again. The last bullet hit the woman in the middle of her forehead. Blood and brains exploded out the back of her head, splattering all over her last standing comrade.
The younger woman with the dark hair was still holding her gun. But she wasn't pointing it at anyone anymore. She was streaked with the blood and brains of her dead friend and her mouth was hanging open in shock. Her hands were shaking.
"Drop it," Spencer ordered. The woman hesitated for a moment. It didn't appear that she intended to put up a fight. She just still seemed to be trying to make sense of what had just happened in front of her. She looked at Rowan, then at Spencer. Then she dropped her gun to the bloody dirt in front of her. Rowan stepped forward and kicked the gun away.
"Kneel down and put your hands on your head," Rowan suggested. Her father, Daryl, Rick, Tony, and the entire rest of their little war party was running at top speed in her direction. They might still kill this woman on sight when they arrived. But if the woman assumed a position of surrender, Rowan thought that might make her immediate death a little less likely.
"Fuck you all!" The curse came from a few feet away. The man that Spencer had shot earlier had drug himself to his feet. He was holding a gun in his one good hand, pointing it at Spencer. He opened his mouth to speak again but he was flying back to the ground before he could get another word out. Tank had arrived before the cavalry. The man landed hard on the ground with the giant dog on top of him. Rowan knew the man still had a loaded gun. And she didn't want her dog to get shot. So she gave the one command that always disgusted her the most.
"TANK," she screamed, "GET HIM!"
Tank did not show any reluctance. The large dog could smell blood mixed with Rowan's fear. He clamped his large jaws down over the strange man's throat and didn't let go until his mouth was full of blood and the man had gone completely limp under him.
"Good boy," Rowan praised, calling the large dog to her. She knelt on the ground and wrapped her arms around the giant beast of a dog, hugging him close to her. "Sorry you had to do that," she whispered, stroking her hands over his fur.
The dark haired woman was still on her knees. Her eyes were wide open and she was staring at the giant block monster of a dog in front of her. Her face was twisted in a mask of absolute terror. Tank turned his attention towards the strange woman. She was still on her knees, putting her almost at eye level with the large dog. She didn't appear to be an immediate threat. But Tank considered all strangers to be dangerous until Rowan introduced them to him properly. Tank took a step towards the woman. The fur on his back prickled up and he barred his teeth. A low growl rumbled slowly out of his chest as he took another step. The woman's eyes got wider before they rolled back into her head, exposing the white area around her irises. Then she collapsed on the ground.
