Deanna and Erin reach the Wolves' base, followed closely by the arrival of the search party.
Trigger warning: references to sexual acts and vulgar terminology about such from the Wolves.
We're Killing Strangers
We're killing strangers, so we don't kill the ones that we love
We pack demolition, we can't pack emotion
Dynamite? We just might...
So blow us a kiss, blow us a kiss
Blow us a kiss, we'll blow you to pieces
We're killing strangers, we're killing strangers
We're killing strangers, so we don't kill the ones that we love
-Marilyn Manson, (via John Wick Soundtrack)
"Daryl? Daryl can you hear me?"
The voice was so far away. He was tired. More tired than he could ever remember being. The effort it would take to open his eyes was like trying to lift a twelve point buck that weighed as much as he did field dressed.
Something niggled at him though. It was a woman's voice. There was a woman...she was important... she...she cared about him, cared for him...cared if he came back to her. She was the first person to ever tell him he was worth a damn...she was brave and strong as hell...and she loved him...
"Carol?" the work was the barest croak, his lips barely moving.
"No...but she's safe. She's back at home." the woman told him.
"Not here?" Daryl groaned, but then grunted, "Good." It was good...good that she wasn't here. Here was a fucking nightmare. Here was pain and humiliation. Here was the fear that he wouldn't be able to save any of the people locked up here, not even himself...
"Can you drink some of this?' the woman asked and he felt a trickle of wetness on his lips. He opened his mouth and let it flow across his tongue and into his throat, but then he started to choke. Strong hands lifted him into a sitting position, leaning him forward so he could cough out the offending liquid.
Everything hurt. There wasn't an inch on his body that didn't feel bruised or cut or scratched. His nose and eyes were practically swollen shut—the reason his mouth was so dry was that he'd been forced to breathe through it if he wanted to breathe at all.
A gentle hand touched his shoulder and he flinched back, ducking his head and raising his arm to block any further contact.
"Daryl...I'm sorry, but I need to examine you... your injuries need tended to." the woman said, trying to sound soothing, but her voice was also infinitely sad.
"Daryl, it's Erin. She just wants to help." a second voice, male said quietly.
"Aaron?" Daryl asked, trying to open his eyes wider, dropping his arm.
"Aaron and Erin." Yang chuckled, "I guess that is a little confusing. It's Dr. Yang, Daryl."
"Doc? What're you doin' here?" Daryl said, trying to focus on the doctor, starting to sound panicked, "Alexandria? The walls?"
"The walls are fine—it's fine. Everyone's fine. Carol's fine." Erin said. "I'm here to help you and Aaron. It was...well, it was part of the deal."
"These assholes ain't deal making sorta people." Daryl grated out bitterly.
"Preaching to the choir," Erin said wryly. "Remember I lived with them for awhile."
"Then why the hell did you come back?" Aaron asked, quietly angry. "What's this deal?"
"I need to see to him first, please." Erin said stubbornly and then dropped her volume and added more pleadingly, "I don't know how much time they'll give me."
They had taken the other two women out of the cell before they'd brought Erin in despite Aaron's protests. Daryl had been mostly unconscious for the better part of a day and night. All they could do for him was try to keep him hydrated, periodically trying to rouse him and dripping water into his mouth.
Once he understood what she wanted, Daryl lay quietly while Erin pulled on a pair of thin vinyl gloves and examined his head, face and ribs. She disinfected and splinted the nose to hold the repair Aaron had done in place. Next she applied fresh medical tape to the broken or cracked ribs and checked his extremities, using hand sanitizer to clean the scratches and rope burns as best she could.
Daryl bore the obviously painful medical care stoically, his jaw tight, lips thin and white. While she bound his ribs he seemed to pass out again, but roused when she finished, whispering a thank you, breathing easier.
When she saw the dried blood on the back of Daryl's pants Yang exchanged a questioning look with Aaron and he winced and nodded yes to the unspoken query. Erin closed her eyes against furious tears and gritted her teeth to hold back the scream of rage she felt rising.
"Go 'head. Know you gotta." Daryl said in his soft dry gravel monotone, and his hands moved to the belt loops of his already loosened khakis, starting to tug them down. Aaron helped him finish and then to roll over.
"Tell me if you need me to stop." Erin said. She'd dealt with PTSD in assault victims before, usually women when she was an ER doctor, but she'd done after care for the interrogated prisoners in Iraq as well. In the end there hadn't been much difference. Torture was just another kind of rape.
Daryl did his best to suffer her carefully therapeutic touch, but it was still painful. At one point his hand reached out blindly for something to hold onto and found Aaron's, clutching it so hard that the other recruiter would have bruises afterwards.
"They're coming for us." Erin whispered to Daryl and Aaron as she applied an antiseptic soothing aloe cream, grimacing as she felt his shudder at her touch and then righted his pants. She snapped off the gloves and started putting away her equipment into her back pack as she talked.
"How?" Aaron asked. If there was a plan that went along with the deal, he'd sort of like to be in on it.
"Rick and the others will be here soon—we just have to hold on." Yang told them. "Deanna has it wired."
"Deanna!" Aaron said, surprised.
"She traded herself for you." Erin said in a more normal voice, "Took the blame for what happened to the Wolves we captured."
Daryl was dumbfounded—Deanna had been willing to sacrifice herself for him? No—it wasn't just that. She was shielding Carl and the other kids as well as Aaron. Anyone who doubted her leadership before now should eat their words...
"So she's a prisoner too? Where is she?" Aaron asked, not seeing how that helped them.
"Their leader, Circe, took her somewhere before they brought me in here." Erin said. "But as long as she's got the—" but there was suddenly a loud commotion of raised voices outside their cell that interrupted her explanation.
"Whatta ya mean we have to leave 'em alone?" an angry male voice whined.
"We ain't even got to have our fun with the other one! I'm tired 'a those tapped out blonde bitches—I need some tight pussy!" one of the Wolves complained.
"Or that uppity dyke doctor—the Queen won't protect her like the Lupus Dei did—I call first dibs on her cunt."
"You can have it...prob'ly got teeth down there—she's one mean little twat." another very disgruntled voice chimed in followed by mocking laughter in response.
"Just coz' she twisted yer dick and nuts when you tried to grab her tits..." more laughter, louder.
"He was black n' blue down there for weeks—couldn't get it up neither!" another man guffawed.
"Shut th'fuck up!" the man Erin had so efficiently dealt with yelled and then there was the sound of a fist hitting bone and an angry roar and then the cheering that arose around a fight.
Daryl and Aaron both gave Erin an impressed look.
"Gonads on the outside—gets you men every time." Yang shrugged.
"ENOUGH!" a more authoritative female voice rose above the fighting outside and it dissolved into disgruntled murmurings.
"That's enough of this bullshit." Circe said sternly. "The deal was that we return their men in exchange for the one who took out the Lupus Dei and the rest. They kept their part; now we do ours. You two—go get them ready for transport."
Daryl was reminded uncomfortably of the showdown at Grady. A new leader trying to maintain her authority over a group of violent individuals, even more depraved than Noah had told them the pseudo cops at the hospital had been.
Two of the Wolves came in soon thereafter. One looked like a dirty Mr. Clean, with a shaved head and two pierced ears, and the other shorter thin one resembled nothing so much as a crocodile walking upright, his long nose, pointy chin and bulging eyes matching his toothy yellow grin under his John Deere green baseball cap.
"Looks like your pardon came through, meat." The larger of the two smirked at Daryl, blowing him a kiss. "Remember me?" he asked, "Gonna miss that soft tight ass...mmm hmmn," and then he stroked himself through his pants, laughing low and lasciviously.
Daryl remembered. He struggled to his feet, letting Aaron help only until he was half standing and then he limped over to the bars and just stood there, staring at Mr. Clean.
"You eyeballin' me, meat?" the bald man snorted, striding up to get in Daryl's face, grabbing him by the throat through the bars and slamming him forward, amazed that after what he'd been subjected to Daryl could still have any defiance left.
Faster than letting loose a bolt the man was gasping, a look of confusion on his face. Moaning, he bent forward and then simply dropped to the floor. The crocodile man started forward, but Daryl reached through the bars, leaving the big knife he'd just stuck under Mr. Clean's ribcage and slammed up into his heart, and using the second smaller one, he threw with perfect precision, as slick a blade through the eye toss as you'd ever want to see. Again a look of confusion passed over the second almost dead man's face and then he dropped as well.
"Hope the one we can reach has the keys." Daryl grunted before he collapsed, trying to stop himself from falling too fast by hanging onto the bars, sliding to the floor, gasping in pain as he landed.
Aaron and Erin were still frozen in place, looking at the two dead men, Daryl, and then at each other several times before what he had done truly sunk in. Then they rushed to kneel beside him.
"Fucker took my knives." Daryl said weakly, gesturing at the empty sheaths worn by the bald man and then at the knife handle now protruding from the smaller man's eye socket.
When he'd gotten close enough, Daryl had simply reclaimed his property.
"Find the keys." Daryl muttered, fighting to not pass out, his eyes fluttering, "He'll turn."
While Erin checked Daryl's pulse, Aaron pulled on the man's clothes, dragging him closer, finding the key ring hooked to his belt. Opening the cage, he retrieved both of the Wolves' guns and Daryl's smaller knife, using it to quickly and neatly punch through Mr. Clean's temple. Then he unbuckled the belt the dead man wore and removed it and the two sheaths, one for the smaller knife that had belonged to Beth, the one Carol had given him, and the other larger one he'd taken from Terminus, which he had just used to kill two of the men who had raped him.
Next Aaron stripped the clothes off of both men and dragged their bodies into the cell. Erin helped Daryl exchange his torn and bloody clothes for the relatively cleaner ones while Aaron did the same. The bigger man's boots were too big for both, but since they wouldn't get far barefoot Aaron pulled them on and the Reeboks worn by the Croc man went on Daryl.
"We can't fight our way out of here." Erin sighed nervously, rising to peek out the door and then barring it from the inside, the adrenalin rush subsiding and reality kicking in. There were at least twenty Wolves outside.
"We have to try." Aaron protested, helping Daryl, who was leaning against the wall, put on his belt and knives.
"Look at him!" she hissed, gesturing at Daryl, "He can barely stand!"
"I'm fine." Daryl growled, sounding pissed off as hell, pulling himself upright by sheer force of will.
"We can't just sit around—they'll come looking for these two soon." Aaron said emphatically, looking at the dead Wolves.
The sound of gunfire drew their attention outside the door and then the concussion wave from a loud explosion rocked the building. More gunfire and shouting followed and it became obvious an attack was under way.
"I'd say our ride's here." Daryl said with a tired little smile.
"We need to find Deanna." Erin said.
"And Brianna and Riley—the others being held here—if they're still alive." Aaron agreed.
"How the fuck did they find us?" Circe said, striking Deanna across the face so hard she fell to the ground. The other woman said nothing, but the small smile and narrowing of her eyes as she looked back defiantly told the tale. Her heart shaped pendant, which the Wolf leader had taken from her when they arrived and she'd been stripped and shamed in front of the Pack, hung from Circe's neck, still sending its steady signal.
"Does it matter?" her main henchman asked, pulling his pistol out of the holster and pointing it at Deanna's head. "They broke the deal, just shoot the bitch and the rest of 'em and be done with it!"
"No!" the Queen said quickly, "That's too easy..." she narrowed her eyes and looked down at the ASZ leader and then started striding across the room, heading for the back exit of the building. "Bring her."
"Stupid bitch,"grumbling, the Wolf dragged the prisoner off the floor by her bound wrists.
Deanna wasn't sure if he meant Circe or her and then decided it was probably both.
The Wolves had taken over a small town square, barricading the streets with derelict cars and wire mesh fencing to keep the walkers out. Their main lair was the two century old stone and brick courthouse, with prisoners kept in the jail cells in the basement and the courtrooms serving as what amounted to torture chambers for those unlucky enough to have been captured by them and not just killed outright and placed in one of their trap sites.
Circe's space was the former mayor's office, which had its own entrance and exit via a fire escape down the back side of the building and into an alley where their only two other running vehicles were kept. One was Daryl's motorcycle and one was an older model pick up, a Chevy.
"Shit!" Circe yelled when she climbed out onto the first landing and saw that the explosion had targeted the truck, which was now resting upside down in the middle of the barrier, the fence destroyed, and walkers were streaming in. The bike had been knocked over in the blast, no telling how much damage had been done to it.
Aaron's car was parked at the front of the building in case they were blocked from leaving out the back, but she knew that the loose loyalty of most of these men meant they'd probably already tried to take it and make a break for it when she hadn't immediately appeared there after the attack.
"Head for the jail." the Queen ordered. "We'll make our stand down there—more hostages mean more bargaining power—go!"
"You have to go down—to the cells in the Courthouse—that's where they have them." the older of the blonde women Michonne had found and freed from the men trying to run in Aaron's car told her. When they'd opened the gate she and Rick had been waiting, using the old trick he and Glenn had first used in Atlanta and later what Carol had at Terminus. Donning coveralls, they'd all been doused in walker guts and headed in with the large herd they'd cultivated for just this purpose.
The tracer signal had led them about sixty miles from Alexandria, to a small town much like the one where Morgan and Rick had met. It had been a near thing—they'd lost the trace about ten miles outside of the Zone. Trying everything he could think of, Eugene had been able to triangulate the location from actual satellite data, possibly Chinese spy orbiters still in place, since they were so close to D.C. After a couple of hours reconfiguring the chip reader to use that as a source, the steady red dot reappeared, leading them north.
"This is some good shit." the Mullet said approvingly, petting the little device Spencer had given them approvingly, as if it was a small beloved dachshund.
When they found the walled off city center, Morgan and Abe had set off to lure a herd in, while Rick and Michonne made short work of a few walkers for their disgusting but necessary camouflage.
"I hoped I'd never have to do this again." Michonne said, wrinkling her whole face in distaste as Rick covered her back with the goo. She'd wrapped her dreads in a scarf tied high on her head, but knew some of it would still find its way into her hair.
"When did you?—oh, right." Rick said, remembering. "The day we met."
She'd been accidentally covered in the entrails of a walker while fighting for her life, discovering it worked the same as her "pets" had done for her and Andrea all those months.
"You weren't gonna let me in, as I recall." Michonne teased dryly. It had been Carl who'd insisted she be brought inside.
"Would've been the biggest mistake of my life." Rick said solemnly, making Michonne turn to him with a quizzical expression. His face was sad, apologetic...hopeful.
Michonne turned back around without comment. Rick had burned a lot of bridges with her since they'd come to Alexandria. She wasn't certain she was ready to start rebuilding them.
"They're coming—I can hear them." Eugene announced, looking ready to throw up and not just from the smell.
"You need to stay out of sight—if they can't see you they should ignore you—when we get our people someone will signal you on the walkie and let you know where to pick us up." Rick said.
Eugene was staying with the RV, which they had also liberally smeared with walker guts.
"And for Christ's sake, keep the doors locked until you know it's us." Rick added; the memory of a burning barn and a blood spattered windshield making him grimace.
"We're counting on you, Eugene." Michonne said.
If anything went wrong with their escape transport, it could be a long trip back to the ASZ on foot.
"I am on like Donkey Kong." Eugene droned and then saluted before he went up the steps of the RV and locked the door behind him just as the herd, with a similarly camouflaged Abe and Morgan in the lead started spilling through the trees and around the big boxy vehicle like salmon parting for a boulder midstream.
Taking their cue from Morgan, all of them wore light body armor under their camo coverings, but there was always the possibility that one of the Wolf sentries would get off a good head shot, thinking they were really a walker. They wanted to get close enough to the walls to lob the grenades in, doing as much damage as possible in the shortest amount of time, hopefully forcing the Wolves to flee to escape the attackers and the herd.
However the need to find and rescue Daryl, Aaron, Deanna and Erin meant they couldn't just burn the place down; they had to use surgical strikes, starting in the back to push them to the main front gate.
When the rusted red car revved its engine on the other side, waiting for the gate to open wide enough to get through, the walker swarm pushed in, almost covering the sedan. The driver and other man in the front seat panicked when they saw they were being overwhelmed. The passenger shot right through the side window, shattering the safety glass, and was pulled through the window by walkers. The other man put his gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, the sound of the shot mingling with the screams of the man being devoured alive.
Rick was disgusted—the plan was to capture them and find out where the prisoners were being held—but then they heard the cries for help coming from the trunk. Thinking it could be some of their people they drove the car back to the RV, parked next to it and then signaled Eugene. He tossed them two blankets which they'd covered in walker camo and used to get the women safely from the trunk to the RV.
Learning where Daryl and Aaron were being held gave them a direction to head in and after letting Abe and Morgan, who were still at the at the back wall breach, know what was up via the walkies, they headed in to find them.
Dedicated to Lily, my sister's small beloved miniature dachshund, who passed away today.
Thanks for reading!