JackAndHoney - I know, Mr. Reedus' hair is beginning to get ridiculously long now. Thanks for the review!
skittletitz - But you have to admit you love him for it, right?
HGRHfan35 - I never put much stock into spoilers. Honestly, unless it actually happens on the show, then how the hell do all these people know what's going on for sure? Besides, AMC can't be so foolish as to think they wouldn't lose fans if they killed off a beloved character. I don't know about you, but it doesn't matter how good the show is, once my favourite character dies, the show ends for me.
Brazen Hussy - At least Michonne doesn't want to automatically kill Merlewhenever he opens his mouth or looks at her anymore. Baby steps, right? ^_^
Lilone1776 - I agree. Those poor Dixon's have been through hell. They both need hugs...though Daryl might stab you if you try...Merle might do worse...maybe that's why he killed Neil...? Can it be proven Neil was moving in for a hug? (In my mind, yes, yes it was).
peonies01 -I find I lean more towards good characters than a good plot when I write. Which reminds me, sorry to everyone for the bad plot of this story...but please enjoy the characters! ^_^ Thanks for the review, my friend!
MollyMayhem84 - I think Merle is like Daryl in some ways, he can be kind, but he's still a bad ass who doesn't like showing his soft side. That being said, I'm hoping Merle and the Lt. can develop a fairly good, solid brotherhood, because Merle needs a friend.
Supfan - Yeah, things are coming together and I'm getting nervous as well. This is after all TWD and people die randomly on the show, therefore they must die randomly in fanfiction. That's the rule I gave myself when I started this story.
GG - I agree. I think the Lt. is one of those people who cope well with heavy things. I mean, he'd have to be used to it, being a soldier who saw battle and such, I think he's used to it.
Surplus Imagination - I find sometimes on the show they tend to do things the hard way and over dramatize other things. I mean really. I love the show to death, but it's rather ridiculous at times.
Axelrocks - Merle should be a counselor of sorts. Help people post-ZA deal with their issues.
Laura - Well, thank you very much! And may good things come your way in life, my friend! ^_^
Hey all, I'm updating so fast because I have time again to write and write and write...so nag me not, children, for I come with a chapter update and you'll like it or lump it!
Chapter Forty-Nine: Au Ras De
**The Lieutenant**
They had split come morning, into two teams to clear out the barracks, moving down the line of ten clapboard buildings.
Eyeing the distance where their munitions bunker ducts and air shafts poked up through the dry grass, the Cajun kept guard at the open door as his team stacked things into two neat piles just outside it as they went through Dormitory 8. It was built in the ground to prevent air strike bombings from using their own firepower against them, but that didn't exactly serve in their favour.
It would be the hardest to get into, since they couldn't find the keys and all the electronic locks were down without power coursing through the base, but he was beginning to get an idea on how to get at the ammo and guns locked within without having to destroy half the goods.
He wasn't sure of the state of the service tunnels that ran under the base, but he knew they lead around the entire area like little hamster pipes and he knew each tunnel end had an entrance that popped up in the floor of a building. He also knew that one of the tunnels ended in a heavy door that opened into the munitions bunker.
Spotting a stray uggie in the distance, coming from the helipad area, the Lieutenant raised his rifle to his shoulder to peer down his scope and get a better view of it, when he realized he didn't have his scope attached to Marie anymore.
He lowered the gun and eyeballed the creature, before taking the wind into account, doing the mental calculations, he raised it again and took aim, adjusting it for the effects of the wind and distance variables, caressing the trigger with his finger, he barely flinched as the bullet was fired and the uggie went down, half his head bursting open like a smashed melon, spraying grey matter and blackened blood everywhere.
The Lieutenant smirked a little in self-satisfaction, he kind of missed the power Marie brought with her powerful .308 rounds.
Rick poked his head out at the sound of the gunshot.
"Stray," the Cajun explained casually.
"We're almost done inside."
"I have no problem keeping watch, take your time."
Rick lingered for a moment, leaning against the door frame, squinting at the sunny base around them.
"I used to think I had to put on a good act for the sake of the group," he said carefully, as though weighing each word with his tongue before allowing it to spill forth. "But it rides you hard after a while. You can't keep it all in. It just pushes on your brain until you can't think straight."
The Lieutenant eyed the other man for a moment in mild confusion. "Bet you ten rounds of .357 shot that you can't figure out which bunk in this barracks is mine," he said with a grin.
Rick furrowed his brow at the Cajun. "You need to deal with your loss at some point, Lieutenant."
"I should warn you, though, I booby trapped my toiletry bag, Delgado had a habit of snaking my toothpaste, goddamned corps was so cheap with the toothpaste, couldn't find any for love nor money."
Glancing around, Rick shifted on his feet and placed his hands on his hips. "You see him around here? Walking about? Trying to chew on our faces?"
"Oh, probably, he was down with a broken toe when we left, probably come across him in the infirmary, he liked to go there during his off time to hit on the base doctor."
Rick nodded. "I'm sorry, I know these men were your brothers. But we need these things to survive."
"I'm not upset about the things, Rick. I understand we have to let the body's drop where they fall. I'm not even upset about the lack of time to bury them. I just…I wish we could find all of them and put them down. I don't like the idea of them out there, walking around biting innocents and I don't think they'd like the idea of it either. See, my job was to take them out before they could do any real damage, but you can't take them all out if they're being bitten and dying all around you."
"Is that what happened with your platoon?"
"A majority of them. We had come across this small town, quaint, kind of picture perfect, like something out of a Harper Lee novel, where it's beauty and simplicity was marred by something sinister lurking just out of sight. It was quiet enough, so our Lieutenant at the time, he ordered us to stroll down main street, looking for survivors, which was part of our mission. The entire town was upon us in less than two minutes, blocking our path out and in. We were given the order to pull the trigger until it clicked and I did, but…towards the end I was putting down Marines, members of the platoon who were bitten. There was only nine of us left after that and our Lieutenant was on his way out fast, so I put the barrel of my rifle to his temple and he was kind enough to promote me before I pulled the trigger. I don't regret it, none of us did. No one wants to walk around like one of those things."
The sound of a mousetrap snapping sharply followed by Glenn's cussing distracted them from the tale at hand and the Cajun grinned slyly. "Sounds like your boy Glenn found my things, guess you lose, Rick."
"I like your style, Lieutenant, I ever tell you that?" Rick asked.
"We have a saying down on the bayou, 'ne collez pas votre main dans des gators disent du bout des lèvres, parce qu'il n'a aucune affaire étant là'." He dropped his pack and dug through it, before Rick could leave, pulling out a box of .357 ammo and tossing it at the man. "You didn't win, but I really can't use these anyway."
Catching it, the ex-cop nodded. "Thanks. But what the hell did you just say to me?"
"Don't stick your hand in a gators mouth, because it has no business being there. You may want to pass that piece of wisdom on to your boy."
Rick nodded. "I'll probably give him the English version."
"Your choice. Semper fi, brother."
..-~-..
..-~-..
As the group filed out of Dormitory 8, Glenn passed off a smallish alligator shaped toiletry bag to the Lieutenant with a growl. To the untrained eye it would look just like a child's stuffed animal, but inside was a months worth of rationed toiletries, razors and toothpaste and the likes.
"I hope whatever is in here is worth it," Glenn snapped, nursing his fingers.
"Sorry, Glenn, no hard feelings, could have been any one of you." Unzipping the mouth of the alligator, the Lieutenant dipped his hand in and pulled out a couple packets of condoms, handing them over to the young Asian man. "Here, have a date night on me for your troubles."
Glowering, Glenn took the condoms and stuffed them in his jeans pocket. "How can I with a broken finger?"
"Ah, you're a smart man, you'll get creative." Clapping the man on the back companionably, the Lieutenant lead them off in the direction of the next barracks over, skipping 9 as the other team were going through it, Michonne at the door keeping an eye out for uggies.
She nodded to them as they passed.
"Anything interesting yet?" Rick asked as they paused near her to chat.
"Personal things, some other lady stuff," she growled.
"Sounds good," Rick returned.
"Barracks 9 was the women's barracks, they should be finding all sorts of…things in there for our women." The Lieutenant pointed out.
"Thank God I didn't pull that team's number," Tyreese muttered from behind them. "Just thinking of those little packets of lady things makes my skin crawl."
"Yeah, Dixon boys outta be rolling in the clover in there," the Cajun stated with a grin. "They even have one of those candy machine things in the bathroom, they might get some of those…items out of it…well I…I heard they had one." Clearing his throat the man shot Michonne an uncomfortable smile.
"Um-hm." She returned.
"And you just happened to have pulled door duty?" Glenn demanded of Michonne.
The woman smirked darkly. "Pure coincidence."
"You're a mean woman, Michonne," Tyreese pointed out.
Eyeing the grounds around them, Rick frowned.
"Think we could get one of those military trucks running? Might be able to take more with us when we leave," he suggested, motioning to a lineup of green trucks parked at the edge of the training field.
"Yeah, only problem is we'll get one shot of it, they run on diesel." The Lieutenant said. "We can fill her up at the pump here, but that'll be the end of her once we get back to the convent."
"We'll only need it for that journey anyways." He motioned to where the helicopters sat across the field from the trucks. "We can load the missiles onto it, they might fit better anyways."
"Sounds good to me."
..-~-..
..-~-..
Dropping into the service tunnel through a floor access in the HQ building, the Cajun looked about.
They had fired up the diesel generator long enough for them to walk the tunnel system without having to worry about an uggie coming out of the darkness at them.
Rick dropped down beside him, eyeing the drab yellowed paint of the tunnel walls.
Their group had decided to take the task of getting into the munitions bunker while the others inspected the infirmary for medicines and the likes they could use.
"Which way?" Rick asked.
Tyreese and Glenn joined them, eyeing the tunnel as well.
Getting his bearings, the Cajun frowned and pointed to his right. "This way, then it'll have to be a left turn. Now, caution, I've never actually been down here, I just know that there's a door from the bunker into the tunnels for emergency purposes."
"Think there's a risk of walkers being down here?" Rick asked as they started down the tunnel.
"Could be, uggies get everywhere, don't they?"
"Seems like it."
Twisting down the tunnels they took a left at the first intersection, which brought them to a ladder and a surface exit. Which meant it wasn't the correct tunnel, they needed a door not a ladder.
Back tracking their steps, they began again, heading down the original tunnel.
"Anyone else feel like a mouse in a maze?" Tyreese asked.
"Let's hope there's edam at the end and not a pile of walkers," Glenn added.
Reaching another intersection, they were shocked into absolute stillness at the sight of six to seven uggies just milling about in the tunnel to their right.
It looked like some of the men had set up a little nest down here to wait out the threat on the surface, because there were empty cans of rations and such strewn about at their feet and bedrolls laid out.
It seemed like a second before both sides reacted, their group suddenly raising their weapons as the uggies descended on them quickly.
Tripping over an empty can, Glenn was knocked to the ground, an uggie on him quick as a rabbit.
Using the butt of his rifle to prevent firing in the confined space of the tunnel, the Lieutenant knocked the uggie upside the head, pushing it off Glenn long enough for the man to recover, seeing Glenn was okay and free to defend himself again, the Cajun spun around finding his rifle knocked out of his grip by another living corpse.
Thinking quickly, the Cajun raised his hand and back handed the uggie off course as it went for his face, knocking it against the wall, where Rick swung in with the butt of his own rifle, smashing its face in.
Everyone eyed the area around them for a moment, expecting more.
"Anyone bit?" Rick asked.
Everyone shook their heads.
"Alright, let's move out." Rick commanded.
"Did anyone else notice the Lt. just pimp slapped the hell out of a walker?" Glenn whispered. "If this were a video game he'd probably get bonus points for finesse."
Picking up his rifle, the Cajun grimaced. "I'm getting rusty in my old age," he admitted, before casting an easy grin at the younger man. "Do you still hate me for snapping your fingers in a mousetrap, Texian?"
Glenn shrugged. "We'll see how I feel come date night."
..-~-..
..-~-..
By the time they reached the bunker door, they were getting hungry and tired of backtracking through the twisting tunnel system of the base.
But the Lieutenant knew it was the right door by the strict 'No Smoking' sign beside it. Not that smoking was allowed anywhere on the base, but the sign was there to cover military asses in case smokers set their munitions stockpile ablaze.
He eyed the door. It was a heavy duty metal one, but it was older and had hinges that were just right for popping up and off.
Glenn stepped in with a mini crowbar and pried the bolts out of the hinges while Rick and Tyreese held the door up.
Finally they all stepped back and allowed the heavy door to fall to the floor with a thud and the ringing of metal on concrete, before hopping over it into the bunker.
There was a lot of ammunition missing after the base sent out platoons to defend and search for survivors, but there was enough weapons and metal crates of ammo left in the bunker to cause Tyreese to mutter, "we're going to need another truck."
"Anyone else weirdly excited right now?" Glenn asked as he gaped at the stuff they had just discovered, causing Rick to give him an odd look.
"Yeah, I'm hard as steel," the Lieutenant admitted, earning him the same odd look from Rick.
The Cajun Dialect
Au Ras De – Next to; on the side of.