Chapter 3: Audition
Curtis's small confession was the sign Rick needed to try. Now that Curtis knew Rick was, listening, baked into all the installation lessons were important instructions. "This is the central control panel of this transformer station, Rick. Your job is to check the wiring and make sure this connection and this connection are always tight, otherwise, the block to our east that contains core government services will experience a power loss. And we can't have that!"
Rick continued to attend the Monday night therapy cults. He felt compelled to uncover more of the truth. He paid close attention to the silence. Who didn't speak? Who winced when Curtis or another effused about being at peace? Rick talked about some of his lost lives, Bob and Sasha. Tyreese and Noah. He would talk about locations in his remembering of Lost Lives looking for any sign of recognition. But no one seemed stirred by his mentions of the southeast.
Dan pulled him aside on the night he spoke about Noah. "Rick, I was moved by Noah's life tonight."
Rick nodded an acknowledgment and started to step away till Dan spoke again holding him in conversation.
"The way you delivered him home, only to find it gone, so powerful." Dan gently shook his head back and forth savoring the poignancy of the story. "I also notice how markers are important to you, Richmond, for example, is prominent in Noah's story tonight. I'd like you to reflect on why these markers are so meaningful to you. Richmond doesn't exist anymore, you saw that. Richmond isn't the holder of Noah's memory, you are. You are here." With the last comment, Dan made a motion to place a comforting hand on Rick's shoulder but Rick was quick to shift away. Rick wished Dan a pleasant evening without acknowledging Dan's conclusion to pathologize Rick's attempts to get people to recognize who they were before this place.
The next day, Curtis claimed he had a treat for Rick. They were troubleshooting a power outage at the facility dedicated to food storage where community members picked up their weekly ration shares. None of Curtis's fiddlings were fixing the problem. So, they piled into Curtis's golf cart for the "treat." Rick was simultaneously impressed by how quiet the golf cart was and how frustratingly slow the speed was. The city streets gave way to farming fields which seemed to go on for leisurely miles. The farming fields ended and dense forest lines appeared. Not a single walker along the whole journey. Curtis teased Rick to keep his eyes on the powerlines, not the scenery. Finally, Curtis turned down a road that was paved but had no road sign. After another half-mile of dense trees, Rick could see open space ahead. As they approached a low, steady roar grew louder. Finally, Rick could see their destination, a hydroelectric plant. As the horizon came into view Rick saw the edge of the land drop off and crystal water beyond. He thought could make out another shoreline far in the distance. The dam and power plant were old. The dam was wedged in between the land they stood on and a thin, long strip of land just off the coast. A young man came out of the plant to greet them.
"Curtis, what brings you out here?"
"Lance, you tell me? Have you been tinkering out here again?"
"We had a software reboot overnight, did Windows 2000 break the world again," Lance chuckled.
"Lance you know you guys are supposed to call it in before you do stuff like that, we're going to have to bring up the power station in the 24th again."
The men then turned to Rick who had been starring off at the end of the world the whole time.
"Sorry, Lance. The man has no manners. This is Rick. He's our newest community member."
Lance shook Rick's hand. Rick peppered Lance with questions about keeping the walkers out of the dam. Lance pointed to a spot in the canal between the mainland and the thin strip and described the nets. He invited the men to go onto the catwalk of the dam and pointed to what used to be a commercial fishing boat. He was eager to share the gory details of clearing the nets to someone who appeared willing to talk about it. Curtis made small signs with his facial expressions to Lance to cut it out.
"Oh. No? Oh. Uh. I'm sure you need to get back and work on that powerstation. Anyway, Rick, glad to meet you."
Rick shot perturbed looks between the to men who had abruptly cut off the only useful introduction he'd heard in this community. On their way back to the town, Curtis drove a different way following a scenic road along the shoreline. The tall cliffs were their walls. Curtis took the next left back into the forest. Rick continued to stare off at nothing in particular.
"I may have misjudged bringing you out here, Rick. I'm sorry about all that pulling bodies out of the water talk. You just seemed to be stuck out there. I wanted you to know community is all there is. Folks, even Recovered Lives, don't care about where you're from."
Rick finally understood, to every other soul there was nowhere but here. There was no awakening of fellow survivors to rise up and leave.
At the urging of Curtis and others, Rick accepted a dinner invitation for Recovered Lives from Frank Costa, the council member. While Anne enthralled the table about the sublime in the pastel portraits of the grade 7 children, Rick focused on a side conversation between Frank and another.
"How does the community handle crime," Rick asked Frank. His voice carried louder than he intended and the table fell silent at the question.
Frank smiled at the attention. "Why do you ask? Have you experienced a crime?"
Rick's face hardened, "all people can't be selfless all the time."
"True."
"Have you ever had to kick anyone out?"
"No, exile is death. Is that how the people of Virginia handled crimes," Frank asked with a hint of accusation.
Rick bit at the inside of his cheek, "Sometimes."
"We handle justice in community," Frank answered in a corrective tone though he could sense Rick's growing irritation. "The simple answer is that we have a prison. Always have. So, if there is a crime we have a way to keep all our citizens safe. But we are a peaceful community and selective."
"Selective?" Rick picked up on the odd qualifier.
"Yes."
"Has anyone threatened the community from the outside?"
"There is no outside."
Rick could tell with that last question he struck a nerve. Lost Lives weren't necessarily dead after all, just dead to these assholes.
"That was the real problem in Virginia, people wanting to destroy what we had, what we were trying to build."
"Ah," Frank acknowledged, "the belief in scarcity can be powerful. Like a drug. But you've been able to overcome that drug, right Rick? Anne told us that she knew she could trust you the day you told her "it's not the place, it's the people."
Rick's blood ran cold as ice. He told Anne that on the day she shot him and nearly killed the love of his life. There was little chance that in her salvation narrative of mere weeks ago she'd remembered to drop in such a small detail from 2 years before. They knew Anne! Being here wasn't some Hail Mary pass. They were "selective" and he was selected. Rick wanted to flip the table and beat Frank to a pulp then and there.
"Rick?" Anne's face looked concerned as she pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Got me thinking about lost life."
Slowly the chatter at the table picked back up. Meanwhile, all the dominos fell in Rick's thinking. From the day Rick made a deal with Jadis for the weapons all the way through organizing a crew to grab seeds from the museum, Rick was unwittingly auditioning for this. This place thought they had found a trophy. Rick suddenly thought of the wire cat statue and felt nauseous. This community wanted to feast on the horror of his memories, like Dan. They felt entitled to his life because they restored his flesh. From across the table, Curtis made eye contact with Rick and smiled. Did Curtis knowingly audition? Was he unwittingly recovered, like Rick? Rick settled on the first theory. Curtis was too good at this. He had to have wanted it. Did he regret it? Not knowing what the true cost would be - that they pick who's worthy. That you can never leave. Rick shot up from the table startling everyone a second time. He stumbled quickly out of Frank's house and was wretched his stomach out in the grass lawn.
Anne had followed Rick out of the dinner party. She was hovering again.
"We take. We don't bother." Rick spat at Anne.
"What?"
"That's what you said to me the day we met. 'We take. We don't bother."
Anne understood that Rick had figured out the totality of her relationship with the community. "Rick there is truth in everything I have said to you. I did find you near death and knew this was the only option for your survival. Before we arrived here, this place was only a mirage to me."
"Enough," Rick roared. The commotion called the rest of the dinner party out to the front porch. Anne began to plead with him in the street.
"Rick, I wasn't good enough. They wouldn't take me alone. They wouldn't take any of my people. So, I had to find what they wanted. You. This community is for the good and the selfless. It is what you've dreamed of, its what we've all dreamed of." Jadis held her arms wide-sweeping them toward the people on the porch. "Life exists. Real life exists here."
"Good? This community isn't good, it's comfortable. I've never wanted that!"
His voice broke, "I just want my family."
Anne matched his quiet tone, "They're dead, Rick."
Rick pivoted and started walking away. As Rick stormed off Anne looked up at the front porch of people who watched the scene. Frank glowered at Anne demanding that she handle the situation. He turned away and went back into his house.
Present-day
BANG. BANG. The billy club banged on Rick's cell door and the food slot opened. A few moments passed.
"Come on Rick, give me the tray." The stillness continued.
BANG. BANG. Nothing.
The guard shut the food slot to avoid Rick reaching out to grab at him. And peered into the window. Rick had to be near the door because from the high angle of the window he couldn't see Rick at all.
"Shit." The guard mumbled to himself. He whistled and nodded to his fellow guards at the end of the long hall to come to meet him in front of the door. The guards all wore matching perturbed expressions realizing that Rick was up to his shit again. They drew their guns. The first guard reopened the food slot and quickly stepped back to peer in.
"Come on Rick, not today. We don't need this." The guard could see Rick's foot, he stepped to the right to try to get a better look at the rest of him.
"Oh NO. Oh, Shit!" The guard grabbed the walkie off his hip. "Open Cell 2 now!" A couple of seconds passed.
"Open Cell 2 now, goddammit!" The armed guards removed the safety switches still pointing at the door. The door made a sound of a loud metal latch unlocking and the guard swung open the door.
He lunged to the ground over Rick's pale blue body. "No, no, NO!" If he let the Rick Grimes turn into a bitter, he'd be the next person in this cell. He checked his pulse and couldn't feel one. He opened his mouth and looked inside. He had choked on his dinner.
"Call the doctor, NOW!" the guard barked as he began hard thrusts under Rick's sternum. After the 4th thrust, the obstruction moved where the guard could try a finger sweep. But a sweep didn't clear it. Against protocol, he decided to pull and he gently pulled the very long piece of sandwich out of Rick's throat.
"What the fuck?" The guard exclaimed as he stared too long at the disgusting piece pinched between his fingers. He heard Rick make a small cough below him. The guard looked down to see Rick's piercing eyes wide open and trained on him.