Brazen Hussy - Good point. Merle may pick up a few tricks.
HGRGfan35 - Yes, yes, Lace has finally happened. I'm glad you enjoyed it. ^_^
peonies01 - Aw! I hope you had a wonderful weekend as well. Damn, all my reviewers are such kind hearted people. ^_^
AdmiralCherokeeRose - Haha! The ships you never intend to sail aboard are always the ones that make you most excited when they do finally catch the wind in their sails, huh?
skittletitz - Girl, you are just absolutely adored and loved by me. You know that right? ^_^
Lilone1776 - Aw, really, I don't know why other writer's aren't so grateful for their fans. I honestly wouldn't be anywhere without you kiddos reviewing, so thank you and million times over. All my reviewers are much loved by me. I'm glad the last chapter pleased you so much.
Ms Q - I think the question should be will Grace go to hell for allowing herself to be kissed by a six-four Cajun boy who may or may not dabble in Voodoo a wee bit.
carylfan - Coming from someone named 'carylfan' the fact that you love the OC pairing chapter is a huge compliment. Thank you very much and may good things come your way. ^_^
GG - I'm deeply devastated that you've lost so much faith in my silly fanfiction, but I guess it happens, so no hard feelings. Thanks for the kind support you've given me and this story. And thanks for the idea of the religious orgy, I'm seriously giving it some thought, could be interesting.
SilverWolf84 - Your enthusiasm made me smile. XD Have a great day, my friend! And thanks for the review!
MollyMayhem84 - Merle crapping a squirrel is perhaps the funniest thing I've read all week. You win. Love it!
AFishNamedSushi - I agree. Men like Daryl and the Lt. need those strong, confident women to let them know the score.
Supfan- Thank you! I agree. ^_^
Newsqueen123 - *gasps* Locking hips is perhaps the best thing I've heard since Merle crapping a squirrel...
PlanV - Ehehehehe. Thanks for the review! Sorry I made you break your promise about not getting another account.
Axelrocks - Yes, finally a kiss. Thanks for your review and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Ack, more of the same ol'. Moving plot along. Sorry if this chapter is dull, but it's one of those things that must happen. Thanks for all the love and support everyone gave me for my last chapter. I was really worried about going in that direction, but most of you have been so kind about backing my decision. Thanks.
Chapter Sixty-Six: Rencontre Par Hasard
**Milton**
As they approached the prison, the guard towers coming into sight over the tops of the trees, Milton began to slow his lady friend down, allowing the group of twenty-some biters they had collected along the way to continue on, leaving just him and his girl behind to cautiously approach the gate.
He knew Andrea's group was no longer there, if they were smart they would have left the state, but he hoped to find some proof of where they had gone.
Still he was hesitant in his approach to the prison. Any number of nasty things could have moved into the buildings since the liquidation of the previous group's inhabitants.
Finding the gate chained and locked was either a sign that Andrea's people had returned or that someone with proper motor skills had moved in and they weren't open for visitors.
Securing his lady friend to the fence, Milton gripped the chain link and carefully climbed the fence a ways in the hopes of peering further into the prison yard.
At first he saw no sign of life or even un-life – as it were.
All he saw was last summer's dead grass swaying in the gentle breeze.
Then he caught sight of a crudely fashioned wooden cross sticking up above the grass.
Taking a cautious look around for threats, Milton climbed a little higher up the fence. As he ascended higher he spied four more crosses, one of them planted at the head of a freshly dug grave.
The older crosses must have been the prison group's people, but the fresh one…?
The fresh grave had to be the grave of the new group's dead.
Or.
Or Andrea's group didn't go very far at all and had returned to bury their dead with the others.
He was hoping that was the case.
But where would they be?
Every major hiding place had been scoured by the Governor's men.
It had to be close if they were still using the prison as a burial ground.
Milton needed a map, something detailed, something local.
A gas station, he supposed, would have those.
Hopping gracelessly off the fence, his tan oxford getting caught in the links and sending him onto his ass on the ground, Milton jumped back up quickly and looked around, expecting someone to see him take a very unheroic spill.
Finding no one, he turned his eyes to the sky. By his rough estimate night would fall in two or three hours. The last turn-in to a country house he passed was about an hour back the way he came.
Turning from the prison, he gripped his lady friend's chain and moved her along with him, heading in the direction of the highway. It was riskier to travel along it, but he was hoping to find a home that was clear enough for him to settle for the night. He would have better luck coming across driveways on the main road.
..-~-..
..-~-..
Fifteen minutes later he was on the highway, wandering back East, ears tuned for the sound of approaching vehicles and biter groans. He knew he'd be achy in the morning, his feet were already burning from the miles he covered so far and with many more to go he was beginning to regret his rash decision.
Eyeing the biter at his side, he wondered if they still had enough sense to feel pain. If she felt a burning in her feet from the endless march as well.
Without a brain scan or a decent way to test her reaction to stimulus he couldn't be sure. Just how much of her brain was still functioning?
Checking his surroundings for threats quickly, he reached over and poked her arm to see how she'd respond.
She made a gasping groaning sound, but didn't really respond to the touch on her arm, just to touch in general.
He would endeavor to study her more closely once they got settled for the night.
Paying too much attention to his lady friend, he didn't notice the small dip at his feet and stumbled forward, falling flat on his face onto the ground, his sternum hitting a ridge of grass that ran along the middle of what looked like a cattle trail.
Scrambling to grab hold of the chains that kept his biter close to him, he sat on the ground and took in the situation.
He tripped over the well hidden edge of the narrow driveway apparently. But it was so well hidden he didn't even notice it coming up before him.
Adjusting his glasses he peered down the trail as far as he could to where it rose up and disappeared beyond a hill.
"Well, this seems as close as we're going to get to the prison," he said to his lady friend. "Should we risk it? Looks abandoned, might be safer."
She swayed in her spot.
"You lost all personality when you lost your arms," he mused crawling to his feet and wiping the grime off his almond coloured Dockers he figured choosing light colours for his excursion into the real world was probably a bad idea, but he figured the darker pair he packed would suffice come nightfall.
"Come on," he tugged his girl behind him, "may as well take the high road. Please God," he muttered, "don't be a forestry preserve trail, we'll be walking all night."
..-~-..
..-~-..
Nine hundred yards in and he was beginning to think he should turn back and start looking for another place to stay before dark fell, but just as the thought entered his mind a cross perched on the very top of what looked like a steeple came into sight.
His steps faltered and he slowed to a crawl, eyeing the sight on the road before him.
"Well," he said to his lady friend. "Should approach this delicately, huh? Think we should hit the forest, maybe scope the place out first."
She stood at his side quietly.
Milton sized her up. "Right, I'm the thinker of this team. Come on." He pulled her behind him, off the cattle trail and into the woods, heading in the same direction, just better hidden from view.
Weaving between trees, Milton continued to approach the church on the road ahead, hoping it was relatively empty. The sky was beginning to darken as the sun disappeared behind the trees in the west.
As he covered more ground, he realized it wasn't just a church he was approaching, through the trees and over a heavy duty looking old stone wall which stood about six feet tall, he spied a couple more buildings. If there was a wall, maybe there would be minimal biters to have to clear out.
Touching one hand to the pistol at his side and gripping his lady friend's chain tighter, he slipped through the woods, heading for the wall, hoping to creep up beside it quietly.
Walking around the wall until he came to the very back of the compound, Milton eyed the stones, before moving back to tie his lady friend up, he'd get her once he figured out his next move. He just wanted to scope the situation first.
Jumping up, he gripped the top of the wall and dangled there for a moment, before struggling to get up, his feet scrambling on the wall to get a grip enough to give him a boost.
After a minute of struggle he hopped back down, peering up to see what his other options were.
"Jesus!" He exclaimed at the sight of a rifle barrel pointed directly at him. Flailing he fell backwards onto his ass in the dirt and gaped up at the woman welding the gun.
"Lieutenant!" She screamed over her shoulder, rifle still levelled on him.
"Don't shoot!" Milton exclaimed holding his hands up. "Don't shoot, I'm not here to hurt you!"
If this kept up he may need that pair of darker pants before the day ended, the woman stood firm and tall on the wall, gun levelled evenly at him.
After a few seconds a man appeared on the wall beside the woman, rifle on his back.
Milton studied him, he was wearing nearly complete military gear from his boots to his flak jacket and the rifle he was aiming at him looked like a much higher powered, more unique rifle than any of the ones he had seen to date.
"Look, I'm not looking to hurt anyone," Milton explained, still sitting on his ass, hands up. He was pretty much frozen with fear at being in the crosshairs of two rifles.
Then another man joined them on the wall, this one holding a crossbow aimed at Milton.
This one was familiar to him.
Milton blinked at this man, he really needed to word his next opener carefully. "Is Andrea here with you?" He asked the man with the crossbow.
And then Merle Dixon was on the wall beside the other three, smiling down at him with that smarmy grin of his. "Well, Milton Mamet, as I live and breathe." He greeted casually.
"I'm alone," he explained to Merle. "Please, tell them to put their weapons down. I'm very scared right now."
"So you should be," Merle taunted. "You telling me the truth, Milt? You alone?"
"Yes. I'm looking for Andrea." He said. "Very odd happenstance finding you here, I was expecting an empty place to rest for the night."
Hopping off the wall, Merle approached him, keeping clear of the line of shot. "Why are you looking for Andrea?"
"I'll explain everything, just tell them to put the guns away, please? As shocking as it may seem, guns pointed at my face make me a little scared."
"Merle," the military man said with a curious Southern accent, "your call. You wanna vouch for him or not."
Milton would place the accent as Cajun, possibly from the parish of Evangeline…maybe Acadia. Whichever parish it was he originated from it was one of the thicker Cajun speaking parishes. Wouldn't be Northern Louisiana at all, he'd say somewhere in the middle to lower areas of Louisiana, decidedly not New Orleans as people tended to have a softer, less pronounced accent in the major city centres as a blend of foreigners weakened the Acadian French accent.
"Governor didn't send you in to scope the situation, Milt?" Merle demanded. "Because we'll blow your ass to kingdom come if we even think you're here with ill intent."
Gazing down the barrels of the rifles aimed at him, studying the nasty looking (and quite possibly hair triggered) crossbow, Milton swallowed thickly. "I swear he doesn't know I'm here. I jumped the wall."
"Like a rat abandoning a sinking ship, huh?" Merle grunted with a grin.
There was an ominous silence from everyone as Merle sized Milton up and Milton sized up the weapons pointed at his face.
"Alright, give me any weapons you got on you as a show of faith," Merle said finally.
Milton glanced away from the weapons. "What kind of guarantees can you make me as to my safety if I do that?"
"I can promise you'll keep that big old brain of yours intact if you comply," Merle said. "Do you trust me?"
"No."
Chuckling, Merle nodded. "Right answer, but now's not the time for it. Just drop your guns."
Milton cleared his throat. "You swear they won't kill me?"
"Mr. Mamet, is it?" The military man asked. "We don't kill unnecessarily. This is a haven, not a death house. Drop your guns and we'll lower ours. Good deal?"
Milton nodded imperceptibly. "Yeah, fine." Catching the military man's eyes, he moved his hand towards the .45 at his hip slowly, unsnapping the holster and drawing it out carefully, tossing it onto the ground away from him.
"Now the other one," Merle insisted.
"What?"
"Everyone carries a second piece these days, unload her."
"It's in my pack on my lady friend," Milton said.
Merle moved in and swiftly patted him down with his remaining hand.
Pulling a face at being pawed, Milton scowled as Merle slapped him hard on the back. "Alright, get up, Milt."
Slowly the weapons on the wall were lowered as Merle moved towards Milton's lady friend to go through his pack for his other weapon.
Carefully Milton stood up and lowered his hands, eyeing those on the wall, not half as concerned about Merle as them. Especially Merle's brother, the one the Governor pitted against Merle that night that things went south. The youngest Dixon seemed ready at a moment's notice to raise his crossbow back up and fire and Milton still wasn't really reassured of his safety.
Merle moved to stand beside him, his other pistol held up for the others to see.
"He checks out," the gruff Dixon said.
"Alright, bring him to the gate, we'll figure things out from there."
"What about his biter?" Merle asked.
"Kill it," the youngest Dixon stated.
Milton moved in front of his lady friend. "No! I'm studying her, we've already established a rapport."
"She's a menace."
"She's harmless, I assure you. Let me leave her tied up out here, please?" Milton pleaded. "I've already been postulating some theories on infected behaviour. She could prove invaluable to my research."
Everyone on the wall looked amongst themselves, before the Cajun military man spoke up. "Alright, but she gets loose a causes us problems, that's on you, yeah?"
"Yes. I will accept full responsibility for her. Thank you."
"Shut up and get your ass inside," the younger Dixon growled.
The Cajun Dialect
Rencontre par hasard – Chance meeting