The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 63

Enid cursed under her breath and kicked at one of the porch railings with her foot, stubbing her toe in the process. The intense pulsing pain made her curse louder as she hopped on her one good foot and tried to shake it off. She glanced down at her bag. It was already packed and sitting on the bottom step near the ground. Enid limped down the steps and swung the pack up onto her back. She took a few steps in the direction of the nearest wall. Thoughts of climbing up and over it were heavy on her mind.

Enid took one more step before she stopped herself. With another string of foul words, she ripped the pack off and threw it back down onto the steps. The sound of footsteps on the porch caught her attention. Enid glanced up. Michonne had her son tied onto her back with a wrap and little Judith balanced on her hip.

"Let's get a move on," the woman called to Enid as she hurried down the steps. When Enid didn't move to follow her down the walk Michonne stopped and looked back. "Aren't you coming to the meeting?," she asked. Deanna said everyone needed to be there. No exceptions. She and Rick were going over safety protocols for dealing with the saviors.

"Fuck that meeting," Enid hissed.

A meeting wasn't going to help them now. A meeting wasn't going to save them. Enid had no interest in some idiotic meeting. She wanted to leave and head to Hilltop. To Carl. He was hurt. Enid needed to see for herself how badly. The only reason she hadn't left already was because Aaron made her promise not to take off alone. He made her shake on it. He promised her they were going to leave together right after the meeting was over. And not only would she feel guilty if she broke a promise to Aaron right after his husband was brutally murdered right in front of him, but if she waited for Aaron they could take the horses and go out the front gate instead of sneaking over the wall. Which would ultimately get Enid to Carl faster. Despite the obvious strategic advantage to keeping her word to Aaron, it was still killing her to sit around and wait.

"Suit yourself," Michonne spit back with a shrug.

Enid ignored the dirty look the woman gave her. The look that screamed disappointment. The look that said Michonne expected better from her in a time of crisis than to be throwing a temper tantrum. Enid turned her back on Michonne's look and stomped back up the stairs, sitting down hard in a wicker chair. She kept her arms crossed while she watched Michonne head down the street and disappear around the corner.

Enid tipped her head back and rested it against the siding of the house. She tried not to think about Carl. She tried not to think about Grey Wolf and Carol being taken. She tried not to think about Eric and Abraham's blood stains on the street near the gate. And most of all Enid tried not to think about Rowan and what those sick disgusting people might be doing to her kind and gentle friend. She had Tank with her. Enid reminded herself that the big dog would die before he let anything happen to Rowan. Enid brought her hand to her mouth, chewing nervously on the cuticles of her nails.

The last few stragglers were hurrying down the street in the direction Michonne had gone. Enid watched Francine and Tobin walk by together. She didn't pay much attention to who else was around. Not until she saw Ron. He was with his mother and brother. Jessie had a firm grip on both boys, holding Ron's hand like he was a toddler that might scamper off instead of an almost fully grown man. As Enid watched the small group pass her by, she got a funny tingle in the pit of her stomach. Everyone in town was at the meeting. Everyone. Including Ron.

Enid drummed her fingers against the side of her thigh. She waited impatiently for them to turn the corner. The moment Ron was out of sight, Enid leaped up and darted inside the house. She knew exactly what she was looking for. Rick kept a crowbar on top of the fridge. He had used the bar a couple times to pop doors open when Judith locked herself in. Before he had taken the doorknobs off the doors. But after, he had never taken the crowbar back to wherever he got it from. He left it sitting on top of the fridge. Having a random crowbar in the kitchen seemed somehow much less weird in their new world than it would have been before the turn. Enid snatched the heavy bar and ran back out the front door taking the steps two at a time as she rushed down from the porch.

Ron's house was normally about a ten minute walk. Enid made it in five. She headed around back, gripping the doorknob and hoping that she would get lucky and the knob would turn. It didn't. Enid jammed the crowbar into the door jam, pushing and pulling at it in her attempt to force the door open. But the frame of the door was at an awkward angle. The door was wiggling but it didn't pop open.

"Fuck it," Enid swore under her breath. She lifted the crowbar and slapped it hard against the small window in the door. The glass shattered with a satisfying crinkle. Enid reached in and flipped the lock open. There was a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen table. But they weren't covering the stench completely. Enid could smell the odor that Rowan had described to her. Like something putrid under the sweet musk of the roses.

From talking to Rowan, Enid already knew exactly where she was going. The basement door was held shut with a thick metal latch that was locked with a padlock and attached to the doorframe. It took a few different angles of pulling and prying. But after a little grunting and some more choice words, Enid was standing in the open doorway at the top of the stairs that would lead her down into Ron's basement. The remains of the metal latch were crumpled on the floor near her feet.

The smell was much stronger now. Enid wrinkled her nose. She was grateful for the lightswitch at the top of the stairs. As eager as she was to know what Ron was hiding, Enid would have still thought twice about descending into a pitch black basement. Especially one that smelled like someone died in it. Even with the light on, the hair on her arms was standing up as she took the narrow steps one by one. Enid gripped the crowbar in her sweaty palms, holding it up and ready for use as a weapon.

Other than the intense smell of decay, Enid didn't see anything that was immediately incriminating. There was a picture tacked to the wall. It was a picture of a bunch of people standing in front of Deanna's house. Carl's face had been scribbled out with black ink. The picture was creepy but it wasn't exactly a well kept secret that Carl and Ron didn't get along. Next to the picture there was a TV against the wall. A well used armchair was facing the television set. There was a small table next to it that was covered in crumpled up tissues. Again, it was creepy and gross. But jacking off in a smelly basement wasn't against the law.

Enid grabbed the remote that was sitting on the side table, careful not to let any of the dirty tissues touch her. She hit the power button, turning the tv on. The image that appeared on the screen was in black and white. It looked like a movie scene that Ron had paused. A dirty movie. A young man was lying on a bed and a woman was on top of him. Her naked back was facing the camera. Enid felt like she was missing something important. The image looked oddly familiar. But she knew it couldn't be because she didn't watch dirty movies. The wheels in her head were turning slowly, like she was running underwater. The first coherent thought Enid had was that the people in Ron's porno movie had the same quilt on their bed that she and Carl had on theirs.

The remote landed on the cement floor at her feet with a plastic clatter. Suddenly, the image on the television was no longer paused. Enid could feel the bile rising in her throat. She took a step back, gripping the dingy fabric on the back of the arm chair to steady herself. It's me and Carl on that video. Enid watched the video of her riding Carl as he gripped her hips and thrusted into her from underneath. As if the images weren't enough, the video had audio as well. Enid could hear her own voice, crying out in pleasure as she found her release.

Enid grabbed the remote back off the floor where it had landed. She began jamming all the buttons, trying anything just to make the video stop. Her vision was blurry with tears. Finally she hit the right button and the television screen went dark. Enid threw the remote at the wall. It shattered. Little pieces of plastic went flying everywhere. She was breathing hard and heavy. The giraffe. Suddenly it came to her. That random stuffed animal that had suddenly appeared in their room. Ron must have put it there. He had been watching them for a while. And not only watching, he had been recording them. The camera was pointed directly at her and Carl's bed. Enid leaned forward just in time. The bile came rushing up and she vomited hard. There wasn't much in her stomach but what little food she had managed to force down earlier that morning was now covering Ron's chair.

Enid glanced towards the stairs. The video she found was solid proof that Ron was a creep. He had snuck inside her house. Inside her room. He had been spying and watching her in her most intimate moments. Enid knew the smart thing for her to do was to leave and go tell Rick what she had found. But instead of heading towards the stairs, Enid found her feet were propelling her in the other direction. Towards the far end of the basement where the smell was strongest.

There was a door behind the stairs. Enid hadn't seen it when she first came down. That section of the basement was darker. It felt like a big bat was flopping around in the pit of her stomach and the closer Enid got to the door, the harder it flapped. This door was locked, but not with a combination lock. There was a deadbolt and another slide lock above it. Enid's bad feeling intensified as she slid the lock open. Why would a room be locked from the outside? Most rooms, like houses, are locked from the inside. Locks were meant to keep people out, not to keep them in.

Enid gripped the crowbar more firmly in her hand as she swung the door open. The dim light filtered in, making a rectangle on the floor in the shape of the half open doorway. The smell inside the room was unbearable. The acrid smell of walker stink and old dried blood was burning her nose and throat. Enid did not want to see what was inside the room. But at the same time, she had to know. Holding the crowbar in both hands, Enid edged slowly inside the room. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

A slight shuffling noise came from the corner. It was followed by a low moan and then the clinking of metal on metal. Enid turned. She knew the sound of a walker when she heard one. They all knew that sound by now. Enid had the crowbar up, ready to attack the monster if it came at her. But other than a little more shuffling, the creature didn't move. The walker had once been a woman. Her arms were pinned above her head, held in place with a chain that was wrapped around an exposed floor beam above her. Her matted hair was hanging down over her face. One leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. When Enid moved a little closer she could also see that the woman's shoulder was pulled from the socket and her collar bone was broken.

Her body was naked except for a pair of skimpy underwear. She was covered in old bruises and patches of dried blood. Enid reached forward, using the tip of her crowbar to push the creature's hair out of the way and reveal it's face. With the swelling and blood it took Enid a moment to realize who the woman was. Or at least who she had been. It was the savior woman that escaped from Deanna's house. Enid felt an odd mixture of total disgust and excitement wash over her. Ron might get away with just apologizing for recording her and Carl's private moments. But there was no way in hell he was getting away with this. Rick would get his ass for sure. Ron took their hostage. He killed her. And he had her tied up dead in his basement doing who only knows what with her. She was naked except for her panties. And now that she was thinking about the dead woman's attire, Enid took a better look at the underwear.

The crowbar clattered to the floor at her feet. Enid leaned forward and vomited. Again. The panties the woman had on were hers. Enid remembered them specifically. Carl had brought them back for her from a run he went on with his dad. And she had giggled about it because they were frilly pink and lacey and he had them hidden in his pants pocket so Rick wouldn't see. PInk wasn't really her color. But she had pranced around their bedroom in them anyway.

"Enid!"

The voice came from the doorway. Enid's body went tense and her head snapped in the direction of the noise. Ron was standing in the doorway. He had a gun in his hands and he was pointing it at her. His hair was mussed and his eyes were wide.

"Kick it over here!," he demanded, gesturing towards the crowbar at her feet.

Enid was still rigid with shock. She put her foot on the metal bar and slid it across the floor towards Ron's feet.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this!," he shrieked. Enid cringed back. She knew Ron had a screw loose but the intensity of the crazed look in his eyes scared her. "He was supposed to DIE!," Ron added.

"Did you do something to Carl?," Enid asked. She thought about edging one way or the other but ended up holding her position. Neither way would help her get past Ron. He was blocking the doorway.

"Carl!" Ron screamed the other boy's name like it was a curse word. "He never should have come here! If Carl had never come here, WE WOULD BE TOGETHER! Carl was supposed to die! That rock was so big. How could he still be alive after I dropped it on him? Why won't that fucker just die already?"

Enid's eyes widened as she watched Ron continue his crazy rant. She knew now that she had gravely underestimated his level of crazy. And now Enid was racking her brain for a way to get out of this deathtrap basement alive.

"Look Ron," Enid said, trying to keep the panic from making her voice shake, "I won't tell anyone about what you're doing down here. Just let me go and this can be our secret."

The crazed screaming and swearing that Ron had been doing had scared Enid. But what he did next freaked her out even more. His entire body posture changed. His shoulders relaxed. He looked her up and down, like he was undressing her with his eyes. Then he smiled. Ron took a step back, reaching behind him and gripping the doorknob with one hand. His other hand was still holding the gun.

"No," he said, "I don't think I will."

Enid realized what he was doing a moment too late. By the time she charged at him, the door was already being locked from the other side. Enid screamed and pounded on the door. But her fists didn't pound against hard wood like they normally would if she was banging on a door. The back of the door was padded with several layers of thick foam and material. Enid screamed to be let out and pounded against the thick batting again. The room was dark and smelled like rot and death. Enid reached to the side, feeling for a light switch. But all she found was that the walls were padded in the same thick material as the door. It was then that she realized that screaming and pounding weren't going to get her anywhere. The room had been soundproofed.