"What?" Negan asked. "Was the joke that bad?"
Anna could barely breathe as she stared at the pile on the ground, the headlights shining on the wet clumps of brain matter.
"Isaac," Negan called. "Go ahead and let that one go."
Isaac's arms slid out from around Anna and the cold rushed her body. She felt a shiver run up her spine. Negan sauntered past, and Anna's eyes were glued to the bat.
Lucille.
"I'm gonna kill you," Rick said, his voice low.
"What?" Negan asked, holding his hand to his ear. "I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up," he said, crouching in front of Rick.
Rick bowed his head and adjusted his knees before looking back at Negan, Abraham's blood glistening on his cheek.
"Not today… not tomorrow… but I'm gonna kill you."
"Jesus," Negan huffed before chuckling softly. "Simon… what did he have? A knife?"
"Uh—he had a hatchet," the man with the balding round head said.
"A hatchet?" Negan scoffed.
"He had an ax," Simon amended, and Negan laughed.
"Simon's my right-hand man. Having one of those is important," Negan said. "I mean, what do you have left without them? A whole lot of work. Do you have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh—" Negan gasped. "Or did I?" He asked, clicking his tongue as he tilted his bat. "Sure," he sighed. "Yeah. Give me his ax."
Simon approached with Rick's ax and handed it to Negan, who promptly tucked it into his belt before grabbing Rick by the jacket and dragging him toward the RV.
"I'll be right back," Negan said, Rick barely able to keep his feet under him. "Maybe Rick will be with me. And if not—" Negan threw Rick into the RV and turned to the others. "Well, we can just turn these people inside out, won't we? I mean, the ones that are left."
The RV door slammed shut, and Anna winced.
She dropped her eyes to the heap on the ground beside her and blinked. They were dead. Both of them. Gone—just like that. Anna turned back to see Daryl hunched over, his shoulders shaking.
She could hear the RV's engine struggle to turn over.
Anna wanted to reach out to Daryl, to pull him to her and tell him it wasn't his fault. But he wouldn't look at her.
"Ahem," Simon cleared his throat, calling everyone's attention to him. "I know you all are experiencing a lot of emotions right now—understandable—" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "But this isn't over. Don't any of you move or we will shoot…" he began to click his tongue against his teeth as he scanned the group. "Him," he finally said, pointing at Jessie, who was kneeling between Sasha and Carl.
Immediately, a burly Savior moved behind Jessie and aimed a rifle at the back of his head. Jessie didn't flinch as he stared at Simon. The RV came to life and drove away, and Jessie's eyes flicked over to Anna. He bowed his head ever so slightly in her direction—the only comfort he could offer her.
The cold seeped into her bones and her chest heaved as she tried to get air in her lungs.
"You know, you really brought this on yourselves," Simon said, his voice deceptively gentle.
"I hope you understand why I had to."
Anna cringed and turned her head to look behind her. Isaac stood a few feet away, watching her. She turned back, her whole body rigid. She could hardly believe he was really alive.
"I mean, you were the ones who struck first, after all," Simon went on pacing up and down the line. "We had to defend ourselves. So, really—" he stopped, looking down on them with a smug face. "It's your fault your friends are dead, and it'll be your fault if anyone else dies."
Your fault.
Anna shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, Simon was crouched in front of her, staring at her with his beady black eyes.
"You disagree?" Simon asked.
Anna took a shuddering breath but said nothing.
"I'm really asking," Simon insisted. "What do you think happened here? Whose fault do you think it is? Ours?"
"Leave her alone," Jessie snapped.
"Was I talking to you?" Simon asked calmly, looking to Jessie. "No? Then shut it." He turned back to Anna. "Anna?" He asked, tilting his head. "He's your brother, right?"
Anna ground her teeth, biting back her words. She didn't want to say something that would get anyone else hurt—or killed.
"Yeah, we know exactly who all of you are—thanks to Eugene there," Simon grinned, standing and looking at the others. "Don't be mad at him though, we can be very persuasive."
He began to walk away, scuffing the heels of his boots against the gravel. "Things could have gone a lot worse for all of you. It still can—remember that."
It was quiet after that, Simon seeming satisfied with his taunting. No one moved or made any sound except for pained sobs and ragged breaths.
She wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting in that circle, the gravel digging into their knees. The sun was rising, filtering through the surrounding trees, the morning mist rolling over them until it evaporated and the RV finally reappeared.
It squealed to a stop and shut off. Minutes ticked by without the door opening. She wanted to believe it was Rick, waiting on the other side with a dead Negan, trying to come up with the best plan to kill the rest of the Saviors and free them.
Anna jumped as the door slammed open and Rick was kicked from the RV, landing hard on the ground. Negan stepped out and grabbed Rick, dragging him forward and throwing him in front of them.
"Here we are," Negan announced. "Let me ask you somethin', Rick—do you even know what that little trip was about?" He asked as Rick sat up on his knees. Rick said nothing. "Speak when you're spoken to."
"Okay," Rick said. "Okay."
Negan rolled his eyes.
"That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that," he explained. "I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work. So," he said, crouching beside Rick. "Do I give you another chance?"
"Yeah—yes. Yes," Rick said.
"Okay," Negan nodded, standing. "All right. And here it is—the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day." He turned to his men. "Get some guns to the back of their heads."
Guns cocked and the back of Anna's skull tingled at the feel of the barrel so close. She wondered if it was Isaac standing behind her.
"Good. Now, level with their noses, so if you have to fire—" Negan imitated an explosion in front of his face, "—it'll be a real mess. Kid." He called, looking to Carl and wagging his finger at him. "Right here," he said, pointing at the ground at his feet. Carl did nothing but glare at him.
Anna was envious of the look on his face, the way he wasn't shaking or crying.
"Kid. Now," Negan growled.
Carl finally got to his feet and stood beside Negan, who grinned down at him as he began to take his belt off. The sound of his buckle jingling sent ice through her veins.
"You a southpaw?" He asked.
"Am I a what?" Carl snapped.
"You a lefty?" Negan clarified.
"No," Carl sneered.
"Good," Negan said, wrapping his belt around Carl's left arm. "That hurt?" He asked, tightening it.
"No."
"Should," Negan said. "It's supposed to. Alright—get down on the ground, kid, next to Daddy. Spread them wings!" Carl got down on the ground and laid flat on his stomach, his arms spread out. "Simon, you got a pen?"
"Yeah," Simon said, digging into his pockets before tossing Negan a black marker.
"Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ball sack," Negan said as he uncapped the marker and knelt down to draw it across Carl's forearm. "Just like he was hanging his ball sack above you and dragging it right across the forearm. There you go," he said, recapping it and tossing it back to Simon. "Gives you a little leverage."
"Please," Rick breathed. "Please. Please don't. Please don't," he begged.
"Me?" Negan scoffed, smiling at Rick. "I ain't doin' shit." He got to his feet and pulled up his pants. "Rick, I want you to take your ax and cut your son's left arm off, right on that line."
Anna's eyes widened and she fell forward, bracing her hands against the pavement.
"Don't," Isaac warned.
"Now, I know—I know," Negan said after glancing at Anna. "You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die and then you—eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."
"You—you don't have to do this," Michonne pleaded. "We understand. We understand-"
"You understand. Yeah. I'm not sure that Rick does," Negan corrected. "It's gonna have to be like a salami slice—nothing messy, clean, forty-five degrees—give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably," he shrugged. "Rick, this needs to happen now—chop, chop—or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."
"It can—it can—it can be me," Rick stammered, his eyes watering and face turning pink. "It can be me. W-w—f" he sniffled. "Y-you can do it to me. I can—I can go with—with you."
"No. This is the only way," Negan said. "Rick, pick up the ax."
Rick began to tremble and his breathing picked up to a rapid and unsteady pace, but he didn't pick up the ax.
"Not making a decision is a big decision," Negan warned. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing."
Anna closed her eyes. She would rather Isaac pull the trigger than let Rick cut Carl's arm off. The question was, was she willing to give up everyone else's life?
"Oh, my God. Are you gonna make me count?" Negan huffed. "Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting. Three!"
"Please," Rick sobbed. "Please. It can be me. Please!"
"Two!"
"Please, don't do—"
Negan crouched beside Rick again and frowned at him. "This is it."
Rick cried out, staring horrified between the ax and his son as Negan stood again.
"Dad just do it," Carl said. "Just do it."
Finally, with a wail that shattered Anna's heart, Rick grabbed his ax and hefted it above his head.
"Rick," Negan said, and Rick paused, hyperventilating. "You answer to me." Negan said, crouching beside him once more as Rick dropped his ax. "You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?"
Rick nodded, looking away, but Negan snatched his face in hand and forced Rick to look at him.
"Speak when you're spoken to!" Negan roared. "You answer to me. You provide for me."
"Provide for you," Rick echoed.
"You belong to me, right?" Negan finished.
"Right," Rick gasped.
"Right," Negan said, letting go of Rick's face. "That is the look I wanted to see," Negan cheered, standing. He picked up Rick's ax "We did it," he said, standing and gesturing around at those gathered. "All of us, together—even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure. Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope for all your sakes that you get it now. That you understand how things work," he said, gesturing at them. "Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that is over now."
He chuckled and wiped his face.
"Dwight, load him up," he said, pointing his bat at Daryl.
Dwight hauled Daryl to his feet and threw him into the back of the van. Daryl paced in the van, trapped like a wild animal as Dwight aimed the crossbow at him.
"No," Anna gasped, her voice barely audible as a fresh fall of tears coated her face.
"He's got guts—not a little bitch like someone I know. I like him. He's mine now," Negan declared, crouching again beside Rick. "But you still want to try something? 'Not today, not tomorrow,'" he mocked. "'Not today, not tomorrow?' I will cut pieces off of—" he paused and squinted at Simon. "Hell's his name?"
"Uh… Daryl," Simon said.
"Wow," Negan said. "That actually sounds right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep—or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me." He hummed and patted Rick on the back before standing. "Welcome to a brand-new beginning, you sorry shits!" He whooped. "I'm gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you're gonna find me. We'll be back for our first offering in one week," he said as he sauntered off. "Until then," he tossed the ax over his shoulder and it clattered to the ground. "Ta-ta."
As Negan loaded into his truck and drove off, the rest of the Saviors scattered and climbed into their own vehicles, their tires kicking up the dust around them. Dwight slammed the back of the van shut, blocking Anna's view of Daryl. One Savior stopped in front of Abraham and pulled out a polaroid camera and snapped a photo, the whir of the film sliding out filling her ears before he moved to Glenn.
Anna flinched as Isaac came up beside her ear, his breath tickling her skin in such a familiar way.
"I'll see you soon," he whispered, his hand trailing over her back before he stood and walked off, joining Dwight in the van. They drove away, taking Daryl with them.
She wanted to get to her feet, to chase after them. But she couldn't feel herself past the trembling and sobs that wracked her body. All she could do was stare helplessly after them and then they were gone.
"Maggie," Rick called. "Maggie—Maggie, you need to sit down," he said.
Anna inched her head around to see Maggie climbing to her feet and staggering toward Glenn.
"Maggie," Rick repeated.
"No," she said.
"We need to get you to the Hilltop," Rick said, getting to his own feet, holding his hands out to her.
"You need to go get ready," Maggie corrected.
"For what?" Rick asked.
"To fight them," Maggie said, holding back her sobs.
"They have Daryl. They have an army. We would die—all of us," Rick reasoned.
"Go home," Maggie breathed. "Take everybody with you. I can get there by myself."
"You can barely stand up," Rick said.
"I need to go. You need to go to Alexandria. You were out—out here for me," she sobbed.
"We still are," Rick assured.
"I can make it now. I need you to go back. I can't have you out here. I can't have you all out here anymore. I need you to go back," she rambled, her breathing coming in quick bursts.
"Maggie, we're not letting you go. Okay?" Michonne said, stepping forward.
"You have to," she said.
"It's not gonna happen," Rick said.
Sasha got to her feet and walked over, placing her hand on Maggie's elbow.
"I'm taking her," she said. "I'm gonna get her there. I'm gonna keep her safe," she assured. "I'm not giving you a choice."
"I'm taking him with me," Maggie insisted, falling to her knees beside Glenn's body.
Sasha went to Rosita still on the ground. "I'm gonna take him. That's what I'm gonna do."
Rosita hesitated before taking a deep breath and nodding. The two women and Eugene gathered around Abraham and lifted him, carrying him over to the truck Negan had left behind.
Jessie walked up to Anna and knelt beside her, his hand finding purchase on her shoulder.
"Anna?"
Anna closed her eyes and pulled herself to her feet. She felt numb as she made her way to Maggie.
"I need to do this," Maggie said.
"Please," Rick said. "We need to help you."
"I got it. I got it," Maggie said.
"Please," Anna whispered, coming around to kneel on the other side of Glenn, her hands shaking as she touched his slowly cooling body. "Maggie—" Their eyes met, both red and swollen. "He's our family, too."
Maggie's jaw stiffened before she nodded.
Anna slid her hands under Glenn's arm as Maggie stood and backed away, allowing Jessie to take her place as she hugged Carl. Rick took his feet and they lifted him. Anna's stomach churned at the sound of a chunk of Glenn's brain slapping against the ground as they lifted him and it fell.
They carried him to the truck and laid him beside Abraham in the bed. Sasha and Maggie climbed into the truck as Anna backed away and Rick shut the back with a loud bang before the truck engine turned over.
Anna watched as the they pulled forward and drove away, disappearing into the distance toward Hilltop. Anna felt like her body was being torn into three pieces; one part with Daryl, one part with Glenn, leaving a broken, tangled mess barely standing.
She started toward the RV, her boots dragging through the gravel.
"Anna," Rick called and she paused. "Anna, I'm so sorry."
She said nothing as she continued into the RV, hiding herself in the back where she laid in the bed, curling on her side as she faced the wall.