Chapter Twenty-One

Lamb to Slaughter

Merle narrowed his accusing gaze towards the three people standing in front of their vehicle, and took note of the heavy set rifles fixed in their hands and aimed towards them. He heard Milton gasp from behind him as he attempted to grasp onto the situation they now found themselves in. He ran his tongue along his lips as his mind raced; trying to come up with a way of not only getting himself out of the situation but also Milton and Martinez. He threw a look towards Martinez who, as if sensing Merle's change in attention, caught his eye. They both knew situations like this one, where their lives could potentially be in danger and in the hands of other people, the outcome they planned for and wanted didn't always work out that way. Merle had been on the other side of this situation more times than he could count, and it was never a nice feeling, despite Merle being who he was, having to be in charge of the outcome. The Governor was emotionless, and awfully powerful and more often than not, his men always left the scene with blood on their hands. He was like a bull, and didn't care who got in his way. Merle could identify with him a lot, and seeing himself in The Governor more than he would have liked.

The outbreak, the end of the world, the apocalypse... whatever you wanted to call it had softened Merle. He thought it would've hardened him, and he would continue to do what he did before the dead started eating people. But he was different. He had changed, and it scared him. He always thought, since being separated from his brother for so long that the remaining people living on this world and trying to survive this monstrosity of a society deserved to live. They were living this world just like he was, and they deserved to not have that second chance taken away from them because of a power hungry man. They were all in the same boat and might as well all try to keep that boat steady in the rough waters, Merle had thought.

He knew that there were people much worse than The Governor out in the world possibly destroying foundations people tried to build back up, killing a group of people for a weapon or for the chance to eat that night, raping women and taking children away from their families. People had always been monsters, but the world as it was now, was a world he wished he didn't ever have to see in his lifetime. He had done bad things in his life, had made the wrong choices and been punished for what he had done, but Merle wasn't a bad guy. He knew that. His parents worked so hard to try and make his life as normal as possible especially with his father being in and out of jail all through his life, and his mother working all hours in the day to put a meal on the table in the evening. When Daryl was born, his father had recently been thrown back in jail for beating a guy senseless and running. It was tough, having to see his mother trying to support him and his newborn brother. He'd fallen in with the bad crowd at that point, obtaining drugs and selling them for money to help provide for his family and to keep the strain off his mother. It was only when he was caught nearly six months later that he realised that it hadn't been the best decision of his. He didn't have the opportunities that many kids had, and he did what he had to do, and that was his best. His mother, although disappointment, was grateful that her son was trying to help her when the system wouldn't.

"What do we do?" Milton asked, his voice low and eyes wide. His heart was racing and his palms were sweaty.

"We see what they want and when they least expect it, we get the upper-hand," Martinez said, to which Merle rolled his eyes.

"That ain't gonna work," Merle said. "Ya see those weapons? There ain't no way we're gonna get the 'upper-hand' with those."

Martinez bit his lip in anger. The Governor had always told him and his other men that if a threat is presenting to you, you take them down even if their intention isn't to cause harm. You take them down and take everything from them.

"And then what? All have a group cuddle and cry over the world we've lost?" Martinez scoffed.

"If that's what you wanna do then feel free, brother. Ain't no one here stopping you from hugging it out with strangers," Merle retorted. "Just follow my lead and we'll be on our way with them waving at us in the rear view mirrors."

Merle was the first to exit the vehicle, his home made hand instrument shutting the door behind him with a bang. He was aware of the attention he was receiving from the three strangers. He eyed the tall red head, his eyes scanning over wide shoulders and hard chest and arms that met him, before his attention wavered towards the next man who stood nearly as tall as the first man. He was holding a gun, aimed at his heart and Merle knew that they meant business. He took the opportunity to glance at the woman stood with them, her weapon, too, pointed in his direction. He lifted his hand in the air, to show that he meant no harm, just as two doors closing behind him filled his ears.

As Martinez followed the lead and exited the vehicle behind Merle, Martinez rolled his eyes as he watched Merle go to stand in front of the three strangers. Milton followed behind him. Merle glanced towards Milton who had paled and was quivering like a small dog in a light breeze. He turned his attention towards the three people standing before him, their weapons staying poised on them. He saw that their attention moved towards his home made bayonet and smirked. It always surprised people. It was an icebreaker, of sorts.

"Pretty sweet, huh?" Merle smirked, waving his arm around.

"Don't move," the red head said, harshly.

"You move, we shoot," the woman finished.

Martinez came to stand next to Merle, ignoring the orders of the trio. Merle smirked. Boy got balls, he thought. He could sense Milton stood behind him, nervousness radiating from the man. It was unnerving to know that Milton hadn't been trained in combat during his time at Woodbury, that The Governor kept him close like a lap dog and didn't feel that it was necessary to train him for situations like this one or any that involved him being in danger of the undead.

"We want your vehicle," the red head said. "And we're gonna take it. If you try and stop us, we'll shoot you all dead."

"Well... that ain't going to happen," Merle countered.

"Why do you need our vehicle?" Milton intervened, stepping forward with his notebook.

"Reasons," the red head said.

"That's all?" Merle asked. "Ya want our vehicle and won't give us an explanation. I've no idea why we aren't just throwing ya the keys right now."

"Alright, asshole," the red head countered. "The name's Abraham, this is Rosita and he's Morgan."

"Merle," said Merle, pointing to himself. "Martinez," he said, pointing towards Martinez who gripped his weapon tightly. "And four eyes is Milton."

"My wife..." Morgan began. "We need your vehicle. Ours was ambushed by walkers. We only just made it out alive."

Abraham threw a look of disgust towards Morgan as the man explained to the others why they needed a vehicle. The less they knew, the better. He understand, been taught even, in his years in the army that telling anyone information that is sacred to you and those around you about something was just as worse as

"Your wife, what?" Martinez spoke.

Morgan glanced at Abraham who stared at him for a moment, before he nodded allowing him to tell them.

"We were ambushed. We barely made it out alive. My wife, she... she was bitten. We need your vehicle to take her to safety," Morgan explained.

"Ya wife's bitten?" Merle asked. "Ya do realise that's a death sentence. She ain't gonna make it."

"Where is she?" Milton asked.

"We left her..."

"That's thoughtful of you..." Merle commented under his breath.

"...with my son and Eugene," Morgan continued, ignoring Merle's snide comment.

"How many are in your group?" Martinez asked.

"Six," Rosita said. "We did have others but they didn't make it."

"And where do ya think ya'll be going to find 'safety'?" Merle asked. "It's just 'cos there's no safe parts around here any more or have ya been living under a rock for the past year?"

Morgan narrowed his eyes in disgust towards Merle and ignored his comment once more. The one person who needed him the most was sick, and would die if he didn't fulfill his promise to her. If he didn't get her help, he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he let her down. It would forever be on his conscious: losing her because he was too late.

"We need your vehicle, or she's not going to make it."

"She ain't gonna make it no matter what ya do," Merle countered.

"But we have to try."

"It ain't gonna change anything. She's got a death sentence. Might as well kiss her sorry ass goodbye."

Morgan saw red. He lunged towards Merle with such venom that Abraham only just caught him before Morgan's fist made contact with Merle's face. Abraham pulled Morgan back with ease despite the man trying to push him out of the way and get to Merle.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" Merle sniggered.

"That's my wife you're talking about. The mother of my son..." Morgan said bitterly. "Don't you have a wife or girlfriend that you care about, that you would do absolutely anything for?"

"Nope, I'm free and single," Merle said, directing a wink in Rosita's direction. Rosita looked towards Abraham who was seething.

"We can take you back with us," Milton intervened, hoping that his suggestion would bring some comfort and hope.

Martinez and Merle both glanced towards Milton with narrowed eyes. Milton stepped forward, ignoring them both.

"We have shelter, food, water, and a doctor who would see your wife and give her the best care she can," Milton said. "You don't have to stay. You can leave anytime. But your wife... this could save her. Ignore everything that's been said here, between you and him, and think about your wife for a moment. What chance does she have staying out here, when she could be getting treatment within the hour?"

Morgan glanced towards Abraham who met his gaze. He turned back towards Milton. "Okay, we'll go."

"What are you doing?! We haven't discussed it yet," Abraham hissed.

"It's my wife," Morgan said. "If it was Rosita, you'd do the same."

Abraham glanced towards Rosita who turned her attention towards the ground. Abraham thought for a moment. Something within him knew that going with them would end in disaster, that it would be the wrong decision for them to make so quickly. But Jenny needed help, and it couldn't wait. He was sure that she wouldn't make this. She'd been bitten, the infection would be taking hold soon, and time was running out.

"Okay." Abraham said. "Just until Jenny is better, and then we leave."

Milton nodded. Martinez threw a look towards Merle.

Like a lamb to slaughter.