II: A Servant Sees Behind The King
Two Weeks Later: The Compound, Adin Mountains, California
little sister there's blood on the tracks,
and a lit cigarette but you're not coming back,
to a town that was built on black gold and iron hearts.
- The Builders and The Butchers
She threw him down in a pen nearest Rick's personal rooms, he wouldn't have to be marched far before Rick personally finished the deed. Baker made a groggy moan as he woke in the dirt, the first conscious reply he'd made since Milla carried him on one of Rick's pack Brahmins. She would've dragged his body behind her even to make things less complicated, but he made it clear Baker was to be in one piece. Something she couldn't completely guarantee dragging him through the dirt and what else.
Jobs like these were the few times she didn't have to put up with the taunting and all around chauvinism of her slaver counterparts and any chance to humble or at least humiliate them was a sweet tasting justice. She still was, technically speaking, a slave as much as those who cooked, entertained, broke down rocks, made coal, and cleaned Rick's Brahmin pens. The only exception that, she had the liberty of contracted work as much as Andrew, the ghoul bartender who though a freeman in a sense, still owed rent and other debts directly to Rick.
It was this relative freedom that Rick's slavers despised about her and in their own servitude were jealous of, which they channeled by easily attacking her flaws, her mutated problems. Like similar humans who had been marked by mutation in other ways, ghouls especially, she learned to let the words and abuses wash over her, but that didn't mean she couldn't toy with them as well.
"Sleep tight you big ass, Rick will want to see you soon enough."
After checking the lock one more time Milla turned on the old cattle fencing that ran across the top, only a quarter of the way since Rick demanded he was alive enough to see him take his head off. With that she went to let the King know his present was here.
Coming back into familiar territory, no matter it was a hive of slavers, put her walk at ease, but her eyes and ears were sharp for the patter of little feet. Amanda would be looking for her, but no matter how quiet the little girl was made to be over the years, she always belted out laughter and surprise seeing Milla return. She never knew why and what was the first reason Amanda grew so attached to her, but over the first few years Milla had been under Rick's control she'd grown to accept and enjoy the offer to be the closest thing Amanda knew of a mother. Knowing this, Amanda would've been anywhere, waiting to surprise her as only five year-old little girls can.
"Bwarrr! I catch you Bright Eyes! Me make you come with me now!"
Milla was immediately cornered in front of Rick's door by a very small, but fearsome super mutant with gigantic claws.
"Ach! No, don't take me! There's a little human I know who'll make a better solider in your super mutant army, or maybe, a stew!"
Expecting another attack, instead Milla watched Amanda's claws flop down to stand on her hips and received a wee scoff instead.
"Pfft, I'm not just a super mutant! I'm a deathclaw-super mutant, I have claws! See!" Amanda replied by showing off her claws again and didn't give up until Milla joined in too along with some tickling fits of giggles as well.
"Well, guess what I have besides claws, from my trip to Junktown this time? A mad-dog bite too!"
Milla yanked the bandage down far enough to show the start of Baker's final attempt at freedom.
"Ooh! What happened Milla? Did it hurt anyone else? Was it big? Did - did it have fangs with blood dripping down them instead of drool and rolling eyes?"
"Of cours- Wait? Where'd you ever get an idea like that from?"
"Oh, it just reminds me of a story Andrew made up for me yesterday when he was opening the bar and I was following Lila around."
Milla gave a chuckle at Amanda's frankness and the idea of her following the cook around. It was a well known fact that Lila, despite like many others enslaved in the settlement, took a great pride in her position and her recipes which she forbade any of the other slaves from helping her prepare in the beginning, and only assist in mundane kitchen tasks. The thought of tiny Amanda stalking Lila around just to see her face sour and grow territorial at the sight of a little girl never failed to amuse her.
"I figured it was him, I'm just waiting for you to hear a story that'll really scare you. Even for monsters like me."
With all the courage that Amanda could find at the moment she folded her arms and raised her head then replied, "I'm not afraid of stories, they're just made up things. Besides, the only really scary stories are the one's you're in because, you know what real monsters look like and what the other ones are afraid of. Besides Milla, you're not a monster, you're my monster so that's okay."
"Okay, okay then, you've convinced me. I'll see you in a bit, I have to go meet the head monster to let him know I'm back with his present."
"'Kay, but you better come back and tell me what you did, so we can make a story. See yah at dinner!"
Amanda as any five year-old, finished her words as she ran off to continue playing before the daylight was up. Milla would have never called Rick even something as mild mannered as a monster with anyone else in the settlement, but she could trust Amanda. Not just because she was a child, but because she was well aware what business her father worked in and how other people saw him as one. Milla took another breath before opening the door to face her boss and the owner of her contract, she just hoped none of his men decided to piss him off previously today and spoil the moment.
Rick was sitting at an old and gnarled desk, that even though from before the War, still held the air of the room in a business-like grip of authority. He was doing some trivial accounting with various bags of caps and noticed her existence by clearing his throat.
"I found the mad-dog in Junktown. He's caged in one of the solitary pens with the jolt set on one-quarter. Groggy, but otherwise intact."
Rick shifted quietly in his chair and placed the caps in his hand down, before looking at her directly. He was one of the two men she knew who could look directly into her mutated eyes that seemed to burn in the dim room. He'd learned it as few others could from his new commander, Saul, whom everyone besides Rick referred to as the Almighty. Unlike Saul, he kept his humor clean from his business, but he never muttered a joke anyways and instead took a strange interest in the minute details of patrols and capture. As if he was an aesthete for human despair.
"Where did he decide to escape to, eventually?" Rick spoke in a soft but firm inquiry.
"I followed him to one of the toilets behind the bar. He was trying to escape down the hole." Milla replied likewise.
She learned from observation of less fortunate slavers that Rick was the only one who decided to laugh.
He smirked a little at first and then gave a short guttural laugh that was almost lost in his mouth and nose. He then rose from the desk and stood before her with his hands behind his back, as if he was trying to hide a present. He wore a slight smile as he continued.
"Well, that's a surprise to me, and certainly to you, I can imagine. Oh how far you've fallen Baker, but not quite far enough yet… As always Milla, you've done an excellent job." He paused to recollect before going on.
"You've really come a long ways since Saul found you almost wild, out there in the Wastes… but I always knew you were different than the idiots I have swarming around here. Anyways, I will note and deduct your services for this little run from what you owe, as always, in full confidence. I give you the rest of the day to spend as you please and I shall call for you when I need you again. Otherwise you may resume your previous posts here."
Milla nodded and went to leave as she came in, then Rick broke the silence once more.
"And… Thank you for looking after Amanda. I know it is not drawn up in your contract, but as she's gotten older and more -"
Rick seemed to paused to catch his breath, even though he was barely breathing when he spoke anyways.
"Noticeably lively, almost like her mother was… It's been hard to simply entrust her rearing to everyone in the settlement. I prefer that she remain under the eyes of someone who works closely to me, but not involved directly with the business. I hope you understand?"
Milla had turned to see an almost noticeable softening in his face. Discussing Amanda always did this to him, but he never allowed any other to discuss his daughter in his presence. It made Milla pity the other slaves who managed Amanda before she had arrived, whom of which for this reason were very few or alive.
"Yes." She replied directly.
Rick nodded and waved her to the door. Outside Milla felt more freedom to breathe. No matter how many times Milla had to address Rick before and knew the routine, whenever he seemed to crack in his method and speak of his daughter or late wife, the air in the room felt as constricted as it did the first time she completed a job. It just always seemed he was one step from the ledge of relative sanity, or fully in control of another he'd invented to deal with the loss of his wife and Amanda was simply a gnat that continued to sting his mind.
Milla rubbed her mind and walked off to find Amanda before she'd be put to bed, she still had a story to help with after all.