Chapter 100 – God's Plan
Daryl was led to a room that had been transformed into someone's living quarters. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, a coffee table and a rug. Next to that was a table with maps strew about. The rest of the room was loaded with boxes and crates probably used for storage. Daryl doubted Pope and his Reapers had anything to do with it. Maggie and her people had lived here first. Maybe this had been Maggie's room, or her headquarters. Pope owned it now, but with any luck, not much longer.
Pope was waiting for Daryl, and when he entered the room, Pope gestured to the sitting area. Daryl remained cautious, and had a seat on the couch. He watched Pope pick up a bottle half full of a clear liquid, and two lowball whiskey glasses. He came over, set them on the coffee table, and had a seat in the chair by the couch. Pope was a serious man, a leader, and he didn't do anything without intention. Daryl considered this like an interview. It didn't matter much that he'd survived the fire. It mattered more that he got Will out. These military types were all about watching out for your brother or your sister in arms. There was no doubt they were family, but with strict rules and discipline. Pope seemed the type that didn't want someone to stray too far from that agenda, or suffer punishment. How he inflicted retribution was yet to be seen, and Daryl would need to do what he could to keep from being the offender. He would need to get a feel for how things worked around here so he could carry out his own agenda without getting caught. He could already tell Pope was extremely observant, so Daryl would need to make his move when he wasn't around. Whatever that was, it was too soon to tell. For now, he needed to build some sort of trust with Pope, and stay cautious to more tests.
"Do you believe in God?" Pope asked right away.
"No, not anymore. I guess I just believe in myself now," Daryl answered with honesty.
"That's a mistake," Pope said as he picked up the bottle and uncorked it.
"Why's that?" Daryl asked. Interviewers always liked it when you interacted and asked questions of your own. At least that's what he'd heard. Daryl never actually interviewed before, but he could play a part.
"Well, . . ." Pope paused to pour a shot amount of liquor into each glass. "You're not … Him."
Not wanting to seem intimidated by the man, Daryl shot back quickly. "I passed your little test, didn't I? Or whatever you call it. What else do you want from me?"
Pope gave a sinister chuckle as he handed Daryl a glass. "You think that's the end of it? You are sorely mistaken. We are all tested every single day that we are on this earth. But I understand your meaning. You see, Daryl, even Will is challenged from time to time, just to make sure he's still with us."
"You mean like today. Is that why you locked him in that shed with me and set it on fire?"
"I know about you two," said Pope, changing angles. "I know Will still has feelings for you. I have to make sure that doesn't stand in the way of his loyalty to his family."
That's why Will immediately stood with his brothers after Daryl helped him get out of the burning building. He knew it was a test. Daryl would have to work that into a conversation somehow, and find out how Will really felt about it. "One thing I know about Will is that he's always been loyal to those he respects and trusts."
Pope lifted his glass to his lips, but stopped to observe Daryl over the rim. "Hmm," he moaned, and then tilted the glass and swallowed its contents. His lips drew back as he felt the liquid travel down. "Ah … Moonshine." He pointed at Daryl's glass. "You look like a man who might know a thing or two about it."
"I used to run it for my dad … the family business." Daryl knew it was in his favor to be honest with the man. He downed his glass and did his best not to wince. It was pretty strong, and it had been a long time since Daryl had any hooch. "Good stuff."
Pope laughed. "Now there's a man who knows how to hold his liquor." He poured out another shot for both of them, and settled into his chair. "I'll assume you know what we were before," he said, mentioning the old world.
"Will said you were mercenaries," said Daryl.
"Yes, but before that we were military. You see, we met in the Valley of Death. That's what we called it. You'd know it better as Afghanistan. Back then we fought for our country … until we figured out their game. Politicians wrote the checks, nothing more. We were just props used for their elections. They talked about God too, but it was all just a word game for them. They didn't really believe. They were in it just for themselves. But we believed in Him. We saw Him everywhere we looked, in the blood, the horror, the death. Every mission we completed was due to Him watching over us, helping to guide us, and we held onto that tighter than a gambler with a winning lottery ticket. We only ever had Him and each other, so we grew close like family. When one of my men hurt, I hurt."
Pope stopped and retrieved a package of homemade cigarettes. He took one out and tossed the pack in the center of the table. "You smoke?" he asked Daryl as he pulled a lighter from his pocket. He flicked it open and Daryl recognized the sound it made. It was the exact sound of the lighter he heard outside of the door to the shed they lit on fire. Daryl wondered it Pope himself lit the gasoline or if he had someone else do it. He took a cigarette from the pack and Pope slid the lighter across the table to him. As Daryl lit up, Pope continued with his story.
"That war damn near ruined all of us. We came home with permanent injuries, the kind you don't see. We couldn't sleep, couldn't hold a job. But there was one thing we knew we were all good at. So, we got back to it. People started calling us mercenaries because we did all the dirty, ugly work nobody else would do. The checks started coming in again, bigger each time. And then the Fall happened. That's when the work got really dirty. Blood, chaos, death … undead. Ain't never seen a war like that and I've seen a lot or fucked up shit. But the politicians still played their games and threw us away like trash after all we did. We went in and they burned us. We lost some of our family. Others we ran through the fire to save. We were holed up in this little church on the edge of town. Everything burned around us, but when the fires went out, we came out unscathed. And that's when I knew. We were the Chosen Ones." Pope leaned forward and looked Daryl right in the eyes. "You came out of that fire tonight, whole and unmarked. And even though you lost your faith, or never had any to begin with, God chose you, just as He did us."
"Right," Daryl answered with skepticism.
"Were you burned? Were you scratched or hurt?" Pope asked.
"I've been through worse," Daryl answered.
Pope sat back and smiled as he took another drag from his cigarette. "Well, let's leave it at that, shall we? You hungry?"
"I could eat," Daryl nodded.
Pope stood and turned for the door. "What are you waiting on?"
Daryl stood and followed him outside where the rest of his men were gathered around a fire. The first thing Daryl noticed was how relaxed and easy they were in each other's company. They were sharing a meal, telling stories, laughing, and genuinely happy. He could feel the trust that flowed between them. It wasn't unlike what Daryl had with his own people. Pope and his men were family too, just as he'd described. They were just a different kind of family, more untrusting of outsiders, less willing to give others a chance. They were and would always be mercenaries. They would always be at war. It was all they knew. It was how they evolved in this unforgiving world. Maybe Daryl wasn't all that different from them. He could have easily fit in with them back at the beginning. He could see how Will remained loyal to his brothers and Pope. That would be the challenge if he wanted to get Will to completely trust him. Daryl realized he had a bigger part to play than he realized. So, he would take a page out of Carol's playbook and became someone else.
It was nighttime and Aaron and Gracie were walking through a forest. The moon was so full and bright that the trees cast shadows upon the forest floor. It seemed more like dusk than night. Aaron wondered how late it was when Gracie tugged on his sleeve.
"Are we almost there, Daddy?" she asked. Her voice was raspy with tiredness.
Aaron felt guilty having her out here like this. He shouldn't have brought her, but for some reason he couldn't leave her home. Then, Aaron started to think about where they were going, and it seemed to slip his mind. How could he forget when he was pushing ahead with such urgency? He tried retracing his steps. "Well, I think we missed a turn back there, but were back on track again," he told her, but it was a lie. Aaron couldn't tell Gracie he was lost or couldn't even think of the place they were heading. If he could just get her to say the name of the place they were going, he was sure he'd remember everything. "I'll be glad to get there. Won't you?" he asked.
"Me too," she answered, but said nothing more.
Maybe if Aaron got her to talk about it. "What are you going to do when we get there?" Her answer would give him a clue to figuring it out.
"The first thing I'm going to do is–" Gracie stopped talking when a walker came out of the shadows, growling and gurgling, arms outstretched toward them. "Daddy?" she cried.
Aaron immediately pushed Gracie behind him, and pulled his knife from its sheath. "It's okay, honey."
Behind them, Aaron heard someone clicking their tongue. He abandoned the walker and turned to find a man befuddled with dirt, casting his wild eyes on them. The haggard man smiled like a jack-o-lantern, teeth jagged or missing. "You lost?" the man asked. When he stepped forward, a moonbeam illuminated his face, and Aaron gasped when he saw the distinct W carved into his forehead.
"Daddy, I'm scared," Gracie whined.
"It's going to be okay," Aaron reassured. He could feel her shivering behind him. "Just stay close."
Someone whistled from a different part of the forest. Aaron knew that sound, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He looked around him, trying to find the Savior who made the whistle. The area he was standing in looked suddenly familiar. It was the clearing where Aaron and his people were stopped, surrounded by Negan and his men. He was there again, and when he looked back to check on Gracie, she was on her knees. The walker and the Wolf were still there, just within the shadows at the edge of the clearing. The whistling continued to get louder every time he heard it. Whoever was beyond the tree line was getting closer.
"Gracie, stand up," Aaron commanded, but he kept his eyes on the trees, knife at the ready. A man entered the clearing holding a shotgun, a Savior that he didn't recognize. He raised his gun and aimed it at Aaron. "Gracie, stay behind me," he ordered.
They were surrounded on three sides, a walker, a Wolf and a Savior, when one more enemy emerged. A Whisperer crept out of the trees, knife in hand, hidden behind that awful skin mask. Dark eyes focused on him as the Whisperer moved closer. Aaron looked quickly at each one, and they were all coming in closer to him and Gracie.
"I'm scared," Gracie said again.
"Stay behind me, honey. I'll get us out of this," he comforted. It was his job to make sure his daughter was safe, but she'd never been in direct danger before.
A truck engine revved up, and headlight illuminated the clearing. Aaron was blinded by the bright lights, and almost missed the walker that had gotten uncomfortably close. It was within striking distance, and Aaron swung his short sword at it, lopping off the top of its head. Dark blood sprayed everywhere, and the walker collapsed, unmoving, to the ground. A banging noise brought Aaron's attention back to the truck. Someone was inside the back of the box van.
"Aaron! Aaron, get me out!" he heard Daryl calling from behind the headlights.
"Daryl!" Aaron yelled back. His attention went to the Savior, and he noticed that the Wolf and the Whisperer were closing in on him too. "I'm gonna get you out of there. They won't take you this time," he called to Daryl. In the back of his mind, Aaron remembered how their lives went sideways after that night when Daryl was abducted by the Saviors. It had led to years of heartache and loss for the man he loved more than life itself.
"Gracie, I need you to stick very close to me. We have to get to that van and–" But when he looked back for his daughter, she was gone. "Gracie?" he called. "Gracie, honey, where'd you go?" There was no trace of her.
"Aaron! Hurry! She's here!" cried Daryl, voice muffled from inside the box van.
Aaron started to move, but found himself surrounded by the Savior, the Wolf and the Whisperer. Their weapons were drawn, and arms outstretched to form a barrier to keep Aaron wrangled within. He raised his knife and his mace hand, and prepared for battle.
A new voice rang out from the trees. "There's nothing left in this world but thieves and murderers."
A chill ran along Aaron's spine. There was no mistaking that voice. It belonged to none other than Mays. "But you're dead. Gabriel killed you. I saw it happen," Aaron said in disbelief.
"And now you're gonna pay," Mays seethed. He came out of the forest, and Daryl was with him. Mays had his shotgun aimed at Daryl. "You're turn," said Mays, and Daryl lifted a pistol to his temple. Aaron watched in horror as Daryl cocked the hammer. Mays feigned surprise. "Did you hear that? It makes a different sound when the chamber loads."
"No, it's supposed to be my turn," Aaron corrected. "Daryl shouldn't even be here."
"Time's up," said Mays. "Do it. Pull the trigger!" he commanded.
Aaron could see Daryl's hand was shaking. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, trying to buy some time.
"Unlike you and the preacher, your friend here has marks and scars all over his body. He's been shot and stabbed, sliced and branded, all done by other people, not because of an accident or an infection. He's proof that people are bad and they do bad things. So, now it's his turn." Mays turned back to Daryl. "Go ahead boy. Pull that trigger."
Daryl locked eyes with Aaron. "Turn away," he said, his voice wavering.
"Daryl, no. Please. Don't listen to him," Aaron pleaded. He turned to Mays. "Don't make him do this. You know there's a bullet in the chamber. It's the same sound as when it was my turn, but you stopped me. I should have been dead, but you couldn't let it happen. I know you're a good man. Please. Let him go."
"If I were a good man, I ain't no more. The preacher saw to that. He proved my point when he killed me. People can't be trusted." Mays poked Daryl in the side with the barrel of his shotgun, and started counting down. "Three … two … one . . ."
"I'm sorry," Daryl whimpered.
"Please don't," Aaron begged, tears streaming down his face.
"Daddy, help me. I'm scared," Gracie called from the distance.
Aaron turned to the trees and called out to her. "Gracie!" At the same time, the pistol fired. Aaron whipped back around and saw Daryl collapse to the ground, blood splattered everywhere on the ground around him. But when he looked, the pistol was gone, replaced by a bloody bat … Lucille. There was no gunshot wound. Daryl's head was bashed, unrecognizable. It looked like Glenn or Abraham's head that night they were captured by Negan. "No!" he screamed. "You fucking bastard. I knew I should have killed you."
Aaron's heart tightened in his chest as he let out a guttural scream. Gracie called for him again, but her voice came from further away. He gazed upon Daryl's dead body, and knew there was nothing he could do for him. He had to go to Gracie. "I'm coming, Gracie!" he yelled, and turned toward the forest once again. He was surrounded by enemies, a Wolf, a Whisperer, and a Savior. Aaron tried to push past them, but he was caught. When he tried to defend himself, he found that he was drained of energy. They closed in on him with their weapons drawn and attacked. He was stabbed and slashed and beaten to the ground. And just when he thought he was about to die, Mays was in his face and yelled. "Wake up!"
Aaron sat up with a gasp. He was breathing heavily, as though he'd just run a mile at full speed. It took him a moment to realize it was just a dream, a nightmare actually. He wasn't in that clearing in the woods. There was no Savior, no Wolf, no Whisperer. He looked down at his body, but there were no wounds, no blood. He looked to his left, and Gracie was still sound asleep on the bed next to him. He looked across the bedroom, but Daryl's wasn't on the floor in a pool of his own blood. He wasn't here either. Daryl was off on a dangerous mission. He'd been gone longer than expected. If Aaron was worried before, now he was terrified that something bad happened to him.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet touching the wood floor. Aaron knew he couldn't stay here a moment longer. He desperately needed to know that Daryl was okay, or to help him if he wasn't. He glanced over his shoulder to Gracie sleeping peacefully. She looked angelic in this state. He hated the thought of leaving home again, but he couldn't stay in Alexandria another minute.
Aaron was in the weapon's room with his pack. He already had a canteen of water and a few pieces of horse jerky. Now he was trying to find bullets for any of the guns left behind, but there were none. He looked on all the shelves, and in any boxes or crates he could find, but wound up empty-handed. He clenched his teeth and growled with frustration. "Ah! Dammit!"
"Going somewhere?" Gabriel said from the doorway.
Aaron jumped when he heard him, not knowing he wasn't alone. It was still early in the morning, and most people weren't out and about yet. "Jesus, you shouldn't sneak up on someone like that, especially in the weapon's room."
"You won't find any bullets. All the guns that have ammo are already spoken for. Maggie and Daryl took most of them for their mission," Gabriel informed.
Aaron stopped scavenging and looked at Gabe. "Well, I've got my knife and this," he said, lifting his arm to show his mace hand already attached.
"You're going after them, aren't you?" Gabriel asked in a calm fashion.
"They've been gone too long. There's been no word. I'm worried that something happened to them. I can't just sit around here doing nothing," Aaron seethed.
"You're not doing nothing, Aaron. You've been helpful in getting the wall secured," Gabriel pointed out.
"Yeah, and look where that's gotten us. Walkers still breach the weak spots, even after we patch it back up. We're almost out of building supplies. Our tools are broken. Without a smithy, nothing is getting repaired. This isn't working, Gabriel. For God's sake, Carol and I butchered a horse just to keep everyone from starving. Our children get thinner and thinner by the day. We have to provide for them. We're all they have."
Gabriel folded his arms across his chest and considered Aaron. "We have to be–"
"Oh no," Aaron sang. "Don't give me that 'patience' bullshit. You can't tell me you're okay sitting here day after day while our children starve. Maggie should have been back by now. She should have at least sent word back to Alexandria. That's what we all agreed upon. But there's been nothing for weeks now. Something's gone wrong. I can feel it." Aaron tossed a pistol he was holding onto the table, picked up his pack, and started to push past Gabriel. "I'm going to find them."
"But what about Gracie?" said Gabriel.
"I already talked to Sarah. Between her and Rosita, Gracie is in good hands." Aaron threw the door open and left the weapon's room with Gabriel watching after him.
"Wait," Gabe called, making Aaron stop. "You shouldn't go alone. I'm coming with you."
Aaron glanced over his shoulder. "Hurry up then. I'll be at the gate. I leave in five minutes with or without you." He walked toward the front gate while Gabriel trotted off to pack a bag.
Daryl had just witnessed the true side of Pope. One of his men, Bossie, had come back with their dead brother, Turner. It had been a mission gone wrong, and from what Daryl had heard, it seemed like Maggie had something to do with the death. Will warned Daryl that Pope would be out for revenge over the death of one of his men, especially Turner. Will had been close to Turner, and it was a difficult death to deal with. Pope wasn't done questioning Bossie about what happened, and when Daryl joined everyone around the fire for some food, Pope asked Bossie to refresh his memory. Bossie told a story about him and Turner being attacked. They tried to fend off their enemy, but there were too many. Turner went down, even though Bossie fought by his side. Bossie said he didn't think he was going to make it either, but somehow he survived the attack. He went back for Turner, and carried his deceased body back to camp. Pope seemed impressed that Bossie had walked ten miles with the burden of a dead man, and wounded himself. Then Pope emphasized that the wounds were on Bossie's back. Will interrupted when he saw the direction Pope was going with his interrogation. He claimed it had been a long day for everyone and emotions were running high. Pope ignored this and continued with the questions.
"Remind me again where you were when Turner was being attacked," Pope continued.
Bossie looked and sounded nervous. "I was right there beside him." His answer hadn't changed.
"And you were facing the enemy?" Pope asked.
Daryl watched as Will took a step forward. His instinct was to put an arm out and stop him, but Will ignored the gesture. "He's been through enough," said Will.
Pope turned to Will, and Daryl felt the anger redirect from Bossie. He tried with all his might not to get involved. He didn't trust Pope, and if he came at Will, Daryl would protect him. He didn't want to do this, not now when he was still trying to gain Pope's trust. He needed to lay low, follow direction.
Pope's sight was set on Will as he spoke. "Human nature is to run away when you're scared. It takes supreme courage and divine strength to stand up to your fears and face them head on, risking everything for someone else." Pope turned away from Will to face Daryl who was standing close by. "We all saw what you did, getting Will out of the fire first." He placed his hand on Will's shoulder. "You felt it too, didn't you? How far Dixon would go just to keep you safe?" Pope patted Will and approached Daryl, stopping right in front of him. "Today, God baptized you in that fire, and made you one of us. You were right about him," he said to Will. "And I didn't even mention the one rule, a very important rule. Never turn your back on your brother. You see, God doesn't just use fire for baptism, but it's also His wrath."
At that point, Pope went back to the fire where Bossie still stood. It seemed like he was going to address him again, but at the last second, Pope grabbed the man and shoved in down into the fire face first. Bossie screamed, but when he tried to get up, Pope but his foot in the man's back and held him in the fire until he stopped struggling.
Daryl watched in disbelief. He didn't think Pope would kill one of his men, especially in front of the rest of his troops. He'd had his suspicions about Pope, but the man seemed to be further gone than he first thought. Pope was very dangerous and unpredictable. He looked over to Will to see his reaction, but Will had turned away from the horror. It was obvious Will didn't agree with Pope's actions.
Later, after everything calmed and the men went back to their daily routines, Daryl went looking for Will. He found him on duty at one of the guard posts along the top of the wall. Daryl climbed the ladder and came to stand beside him. Will never looked his way. He just stared off into the distance, watching for any threats that might be out in the surrounding dark. Daryl made sure there was no one around to hear what he had to say, and then quietly started a conversation.
"You okay with what happened tonight?" Daryl asked.
"Pope says we're always being tested. It keeps us sharp," Will answered.
"I'm not talking about the fire, although if Pope trusted you a hundred percent–"
"I'm not okay with it," Will interrupted. "But Pope has a point. We have to be able depend on our brothers to be there when we're in danger. Turner might still be alive if Bossie had done as he was trained to do."
"So, he was executed because he got scared. I thought you all were family. Believe me, I know that family can screw up sometimes, but that's not a reason to kill them," Daryl countered.
"It wasn't the first time Bossie screwed up," Will reasoned.
"How many times have you screwed up? How many more chances do you have before it's your face being shoved into the fire? And you think the burning shed was a test? Hmph … more like a warning," Daryl challenged. He was trying to get Will to see that Pope was coming undone at the seams. He'd seen it a dozen times before.
"You should go," Will demanded.
Daryl didn't move at first. He waited to see if Will would look at him, but he didn't. Still, he could sense the concern Will had for what happened tonight. Daryl had successfully planted a seed of doubt. It was important to keep Will on his side. He needed an ally if he was going to pull any of this off.
"Dixon," Pope called from the ground. Daryl went to the railing and looked down. "Got your first job for you. Let's go."
Without hesitancy, Daryl climbed down the ladder and followed Pope to another building on the property. Pope stopped outside the door and looking through a small window. Daryl heard someone inside screaming in agony. Pope stepped aside to let Daryl have a look. Inside was Frost tied to a chair, and Carver interrogating him for information about Maggie and her people. They were trying to find out where her camp was so they could take her out when she least expected it.
Frost looked like shit. He'd been beaten to hell and back, and from what Daryl could see, Carver was pulling his fingernails out with a pair of pliers. He was already missing a couple nails. Daryl wished there was something he could do, but he had to keep up his front or he'd be in that room too. His only mission for now was to get word to Maggie and be a spy from the inside. Daryl had thought he could use Frost to get a message to her, but Pope had Frost locked up and under full-time surveillance. There had never been an opportunity to set him free, but looking at him now, Daryl was sure Frost wouldn't make it back on his own.
"Does that bother you?" Pope asked from behind Daryl, as he gazed through the window.
"I've seen worse," Daryl replied.
"Why don't you take a turn then," said Pope. "Carver's been working on him a while. I think it's time to mix things up a bit."
Daryl gave a nod, but on the inside he was sickened. He knew where this was going and he felt horrible about it, but what else could he do. If Pope wanted him to get Frost to talk, he was going to have to do some things that were going to keep him up at night. He had to hope Frost had something that he could give up that wouldn't lead Pope and the Reapers to wherever Maggie was hiding right now. Daryl was at least thankful that Aaron wasn't here to see this side of him. He would have to go to a pretty dark place to do what he was about to do to a man he considered an ally.
Aaron and Gabriel were on their way to find one of Maggie's outposts. She had them scattered around, stocked with food and ammo. She had told them how Georgie taught her to keep places like this available in case something happened while out on the road. The men only had a rough idea of where this place was. Maggie had mentioned something about a neighborhood that was an hour out from Meridian, where she stocked a house with survival items. They were going there to load up first before heading to Meridian, and getting control away from the Reapers. If she was successful, Alexandria would have food again because Maggie had it pretty well stocked for the approaching winter.
Aaron knew it would be difficult to find this place. All he had to go on was a water tower that marked the location of the neighborhood. Once they found that, it was another task to figure out where the safehouse was, but he was confident they would find it. What he hoped for was finding Daryl there too, safe and unharmed. But if he was hurt, at least Aaron would be there to get him home.
The nightmare he'd had was all too real, and he wouldn't be satisfied until he knew Daryl and the others were safe. The threats never stopped coming at them. There was always someone just around the corner trying to separate him from those he loved. It didn't have to be an army of soldiers or a heard of walkers. The size of the threat made no difference. Mays had proven that when he forced him and Gabriel into playing his sick game of Russian Roulette. Aaron couldn't get the thought of pointing that gun at his own head and being forced to pull the trigger. The first time he did it was terrifying. But the second time, he had been as close to death as he'd ever knowingly been. Mays was right about the sound the hammer made when it was pulled back. It was definitely different from the other times that him and Gabe had readied it. And it made the same sound when Mays' brother took the gun pulled the hammer. It fired, killing the man instantly. Aaron's finger had been on that trigger, just starting to squeeze it when Mays screamed at him to stop. Mays knew it too. Aaron almost died unwillingly by his own hand, leaving Gracie and Daryl to deal with the aftermath. How many more threats did they have to conquer before they could move on. Why couldn't they just build a safe place to live where they didn't have to be on edge all the time? This last threat had been too much for Aaron. He lived it over and over again, in the daylight and in dreams.
"I don't know, Aaron," Gabriel said when the stopped to take a break. "I don't think we're heading in the right direction."
They were in a dense part of a forest. It felt like the trees were getting thicker the further they went. "Maggie said they were to stay off the roads. The Reapers patrol them. Last thing we need is to get caught."
"Or killed," Gabriel said quietly.
"You should have stayed home then," Aaron said over his shoulder.
"What has gotten into you lately?" Gabriel asked accusingly. "Ever since we returned home–"
"Don't you have nightmares about what happened in that warehouse?" Aaron said, stopping and turning to face Gabriel. "Because all I ever feel is the cold steel of the barrel of that gun pushing against my temple by the force of my own hand."
"Aaron–"
"No! It was my turn, and the chamber was loaded. Mays' brother took the bullet instead, but it was originally meant for me," Aaron argued. "How did anything that happened not affect you?"
"It was horrifying. Don't think I don't remember what it felt like to squeeze that trigger, to feel the sweat running down my face, and my hand starting to shake. I went through the same thing as you. But you know what? It wasn't our time. God saw us through. His hand was on Mays' shoulder telling him to stop the insanity, ultimately saving you because you still have work to do on this earth. And so do I."
"Was His hand on your shoulder when you killed Mays after lying to him?" Aaron accused.
"I am one of God's soldiers. I believe He put me here to protect those He has chosen to carry out His work," Gabriel justified.
"If there really was a God, why did He let any of this happen to begin with? If God cared, we'd all still be living a normal life, driving to a job every day, grocery shopping, sitting at home watching television, going to a club, or any of the other million things people use to take for granted. But instead, we are fighting every day to survive. And when we finally get to a point where we are making progress, He sends in the next group to try and destroy all that we worked for. It never ends, and I don't think it ever will."
"I don't have an answer or an explanation for why the world went to shit," Gabriel said calmly. "Perhaps too many people turned from God so he left us to fend for ourselves. He is the only one who knows the reason, but it's not up to me to speculate. It took me a long time and a lot of self-analysis to understand what His plan was for me. I'm still figuring it out. I just know that somehow, I've come through every challenge He has put before me, making me stronger and smarter for the next one."
"Believe what you want, Padre, but sometimes it feels like life is just one continuous game of Russian Roulette, and none of us are safe." Aaron started walking again, but stopped when he heard twigs snapping not far from where they stood. He looked at Gabriel again, and they drew their weapons.
Leaves rustled and Aaron tilted his head in gesture to the direction the sound came from. Gabriel gave a nod and they carefully moved to try and get a better look. It could be Reapers or walkers. Either way, they were prepared to go to battle again. Aaron held the short sword Daryl gifted him, and peered through the close growing trees. He saw movement and started to use a hand signal to warn Gabriel when he felt a cold bony hand grab his arm. Growling and gurgling, a walker came at him from nowhere. It reached around one of the trees, which blocked it from a full-on attack. Gabriel was there in a split second and stabbed it in the head, but he didn't see the other walkers approaching.
"Gabriel, watch out!" Aaron yelled.
As Gabriel spun around, the closest walker reached out and grabbed him. Gabe stepped backward, but his heel caught a rock and he fell. He cried out in pain as Aaron lunged forward and stabbed the walker before it fell on top of Gabe.
"You okay?" Aaron asked.
"My ankle," said Gabriel, wincing from the pain.
There was no time to check whether it was broken or sprained. Three more walkers closed in on them. "Can you walk?" Aaron asked him as he prepared his sword and mace for battle.
Gabriel tried to stand and fell back down. "Shit," he complained.
Aaron went to him and helped pull Gabe into a standing position. "Hold on. I'm gonna get you out of here," he said as he slashed his sword across a walker's skull. Then he plunged his mace into the face of a second one. The third walker looked fresher, meaning it was stronger and more difficult to kill.
"Aaron! Look out!" Gabriel warned.
Aaron turned just in time to see another walker coming from his other side. Then he heard more growls approaching from several directions. "We need to move before we're surrounded."
"Just go," Gabe said. "Find the outpost. Find Daryl."
"What, and be the one who has to explain to Rosita why you didn't come back? That's one woman whose wrath I'd rather not know." Aaron put his sword away and wrapped his arm around Gabriel's waist. "Come on."
Gabe winced and cried out with his first step. He couldn't put any pressure on his ankle. Aaron was afraid it was broken. Either way, he needed to get Gabriel back to Alexandria. He would have to abandon his mission and hope Daryl, Maggie and the rest were okay.
Another walker was in their way. Aaron left Gabriel leaning on a tree as he took it out, but it slowed them down, allowing the rest to catch up. When he went back to Gabe, the man shook his head. "We're never going to make it at this rate."
"Are you saying God has finally run out of plans for you?" Aaron jested.
"Maybe leaving me behind is His plan for me so that you can get back to your family," Gabriel told him.
"You're not putting that on me. No way," said Aaron. "We do this together." He looked Gabe in the eyes, and they gave each other a nod.
Both men prepared to slash and hack their way out of danger, hoping they weren't heading into a huge herd. Aaron used his mace as they made their way forward. Gabriel fended off a couple walkers that approached from the side. The only thing keeping them from being overrun were the thin close-growing trees. It was like a game of Plinko. They never knew which trees the walkers would move around, but they were all heading in the same general direction with their sights set on the men. It was getting thick with walkers, and Aaron was getting worried for them when suddenly someone burst onto the scene. They recognized the masked man right away. It was Elijah, one of Maggie's main soldiers. He moved with stealth through the trees, taking out unsuspecting walkers who had their sights on Aaron and Gabriel. They men doubled down with their newfound strength and hope for surviving yet another close call. Elijah managed to clear a path.
"He's hurt and can't walk on his own," Aaron warned.
Elijah went to the opposite side of Gabriel and put an arm around him. Together, Aaron and Elijah supported Gabe, and they hurried along the cleared path, killing any walkers that got too close. It felt like they walked for miles to get out of the forest, but they finally made it. The first thing Aaron noticed was a water tower looming above them, and he knew they were close. Now they were in the open where there was a road.
"We can't stay out here for long," Elijah warned. "We need to get to the outpost."
"Do you know where it is?" Gabriel asked.
"It's close. Let's get going," said Elijah nervously.
"Maggie, Daryl … are they there?" Aaron asked.
"I don't know. I was heading there when I heard you in the woods," said Elijah.
"You don't know?" Gabriel questioned. "Did something happen?"
"We were attacked and everyone bolted. I haven't found anyone yet, but we agreed to meet at the safe house if we were separated. What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be in Alexandria," Elijah wondered.
"You were gone much longer than predicted, and we decided to come looking for you. We were afraid something happened. Looks like our fears turned out to be true," said Aaron.
"Let's just hope the rest are waiting at the house. Come on. It's not much further," said Elijah as he adjusted his hold on Gabriel.
A half hour or so later, they made it to the outpost. Elijah carefully opened the door and went in first. Maggie rushed from the shadows and threw her arms around him. "Thank God you're okay." She looked past his shoulder and saw Aaron holding up Gabriel.
Elijah stepped aside so the others could come in. "Found them in the woods. I made sure no one followed us here. I didn't know if you survived the Reaper's attack, but I knew you'd be here if you did."
Maggie looked surprised to see them. "What are you two doing here?"
"You've been gone a long time. We got worried something happened," Aaron said as Maggie came to him and hugged him too.
"You're hurt," Maggie observed as her sight fell upon Gabriel.
"I think I sprained my ankle. I'll be okay," he smiled. "It's good to see you."
"Is Daryl here?" Aaron asked.
Maggie's smile fell away. "I don't know where he is. You're the first ones to show up."
"What about the others?" Elijah asked.
Maggie's shoulders slumped forward. "Duncan, Agatha and Cole didn't make it. Alden's hurt but holed up in a church somewhere. Roy and Gage didn't make it either. Daryl and Frost are M.I.A., but they weren't in the forest. They must have gotten away. That's why we're waiting here. Daryl knows to come back."
Negan came forward to join the others, but at a distance. No one looked impressed to see him. "I don't know about Frost, but I saw Daryl run off after a Reaper. He had his dog with him."
Aaron went up to Negan, coming face to face with the man. "Why didn't you follow him?" Aaron's tone was more accusatory than curious.
"Well, I was kind of busy trying not to die," Negan answered with a tone that said he was tired to being blamed for everything.
There was definite violence in Aaron's eyes as he stared Negan down, but now was not the time or the place. Eventually, he glanced to his side where Maggie stood. "I have to go look for him," Aaron said with desperation.
"That's not a good idea," Negan put in.
Aaron's attention jumped back to Negan. "I didn't ask for your opinion."
Maggie put a hand on Aaron's shoulder to comfort him. "He's right. It's too dangerous right now. They could still be out there looking for us. Daryl and Frost know to meet here, so we'll wait."
"What about Gabe?" Negan pointed out. "I could take him and the supplies back to Alexandria."
"We've already discussed this," Maggie said with anger. "We stick to the plan. If you want to leave, then go, but you leave alone and empty-handed."
"Hey," Elijah called from the window. He had been watching while the others talked. "I see movement across the street."
The others rushed to the window and looked out. There was a downed powerline moving suspiciously. As Aaron wondered in confusion, Maggie warned them. "That's them."
"I told you we should have–" Negan started, but Maggie put her finger up to her lips to hush everyone.
"We have to hide. This way," she said at a whisper. Maggie led them to the living room and pulled a large rug up at one corner, exposing a trapdoor.
Aaron grabbed Gabriel to help him walk to the living room, and Elijah helped them both climb down a ladder. Maggie and Negan played look-out, and then they followed. She did her best to get the rug to cover the trapdoor as she lowered it above their heads.
It was dark in the root cellar. The only light came in through a vent at the opposite end of the hidden room. They stood with their backs against the wall, weapons at the ready, and waited. Then they heard the front door being bashed open, as the Reapers burst inside. Aaron held his breath, but he wished he could see what was happening above him. He had to find Daryl. It was his only goal, and he was a desperate man. If the Reapers did something to him . . .
"It's all clear," said one of the Reapers after looking in all the rooms on the first floor.
"Wait," said another. "Still fresh. Someone's been here recently."
Below, Maggie glared at Negan, who shrugged his shoulders. He had opened a can of food while they were waiting earlier. She had told him to get rid of it, but he must have left the can sitting out. Now the Reapers knew they were there.
"I guess he was telling the truth," said Daryl.
Aaron gasped and jumped forward. Elijah put his arm out to stop him, and slowly shook his head back and forth. All Aaron could think was to go to Daryl. Why was he here with the Reapers? Had he been captured? Did they force him to show them where Maggie's safehouse was? His first instinct was to burst out of the cellar and save Daryl from his captors, but Elijah made it clear he couldn't do that or he'd get everyone killed. Aaron did everything in his power not to let Daryl know he was there. What if the Reapers decided to kill Daryl because they thought he misled them? Aaron wished he could see what was happening above. He wished he could get some kind of signal to him. Anything. He could feel the panic and anxiety building inside. The walls felt like they were closing in. He needed to see Daryl. He needed to get him away from these dangerous men. Most of all, he needed to tell Daryl he loved him and that he was sorry for being an asshole. They had parted on bad terms, and he felt horrible about it. Now, Daryl was right above his head, and there was nothing he could do. He wanted to scream, to call out to him, to burst free of this confining dungeon and get Daryl out of harm's way.
Then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, turned to look beside him, and saw Maggie smiling at him. He calmed quickly, and was reminded of the time they had both tried to escape through the sewer system in Alexandria. He had been desperate to get out when Maggie made him refocus by telling him she was pregnant. Now, her pleading eyes begged him to calm and think about the others. She slowly shook her head back and forth. Aaron's shoulders slumped, and she cupped his face in her hands. Her eyes never left his, and in that split second, it was only the two of them in that room. Maggie hugged him. He closed his eyes and regained mental and emotional control of himself. When she released him, he leaned against the wall once more, and waited to hear Daryl's voice again.