Chapter Sixty-Eight

Earlier the same evening …

Sophia paced restlessly behind the gate, only pausing now and then to scan the forest through the field glasses Rory had loaned her. Twilight was encroaching, but she refused to leave her post, despite listening to Carl complain over his grumbling stomach. Some things were more pressing than food, he should realize. She did feel bad for Lori where the woman sat on a blanket spread out over the grass, but not enough to go inside. Mrs. Grimes was just as worried about Carol as Sophia was, and hadn't hesitated to join the kids on gate duty to keep a watch out for the Dixon's return to the prison. It was only to have been a short hunting trip!

She stowed the small binoculars in the pocket of her jacket and rolled her eyes as she watched Rick making his way towards them down the hill. It was going to be impossible to refuse him if he ordered her inside. Closing her eyes, she turned back to the fence and listened, only the sound of nature's sweet song meeting her ears. She couldn't hear the soft tread of her parents in the nearby woods nor the quiet gravel of her father's voice as he teased her mother. It was eerie, and she hated the twang of fear which coated her tongue. Her small hand rose to rub against her breastbone where an ache had begun to build. She was strong, her father had made sure of that, but how could she face her uncertain future without her parents to guide her?

Rick dropped down to sit next to Lori, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Still no sign of Daryl and Carol?" he asked softly.

Lori shook her head. "It's not like them to be gone this long. Did they say anything to you before they left?"

"Daryl's been talking awhile now about heading north. There's a ridge up there – thinks there might be some bigger game - he wants to check out which'll probably keep him out a few days, but he didn't mention leaving today." His eyes scanned the tree line, a worried frown marring his brow. "I wouldn't think he planned to go today what with Carol going along. She's not going to want to leave Sophia for that long, I'm sure."

"I don't like this, Rick." The anxiety she felt was evident in her dark eyes and fidgeting fingers as they plucked the grass next to the blanket. "Dixon always lets someone know where he's going and how long he'll be. He makes sure everyone else follows the same rule. It's why it works, why it's always worked. Something's wrong."

Rick didn't want to admit it, but he felt the same sense of unease about their absence. "If they're not back by morning, we'll organize a team to search for them."

Sophia turned her gaze on him, her fingers fiddling with the snap on her holster where her pistol rested on her hip. "Morning? But –"

"It's getting dark, Soph. You know it's too dangerous to head out once night has fallen."

"It's dangerous to leave them out there where anything could happen to them. I swear this is the same shit you pulled with Merle all over again!" she raged, stomping through the dirt to face him.

"Sophia Dixon!" Lori scolded sharply.

Rick pushed himself to his knees and grasped the girl's upper arms in a gentle grip. "You know that's not true, Soph. Your mom and dad mean a lot to me, to the whole group. I would never leave them behind." Some of the tension melted from her frame, and he could see her fighting to keep her tears at bay, to be strong. "I'm going to need you to help track them, and you know your dad would have my ass if I took you out there tonight."

Sophia sniffled. "Yeah, you can't track for shit."

Rick huffed a laugh. "Exactly."

She eyed him steadily, searching for any hint of a lie in his grizzled features. "First thing in the morning? You promise?"

Rick nodded and pulled her closer, holding her tightly as he pressed a kiss to her blonde locks. "I promise. We'll bring them home." Or die trying, he added silently. "Now why don't you and Carl run on up to the block and grab some dinner? Lori and I will stay out here until Oscar arrives for his shift."

Carl slipped his hand into Sophia's and gave her a little tug. "C'mon, Soph."

Rick climbed to his feet and watched them go, his heart heavy. That little girl had been through so much already … an abusive father, the world going to hell, being lost in the woods for days, learning to become strong, almost losing her mother in the tombs, and now this. How much more was she expected to endure?

"Rick?" Lori asked, pulling him from his thoughts. "What if they ran into trouble? I'm not just talking about walkers. Daryl and Carol are more than capable of fighting them off or holing up somewhere if there's too many. The governor's men are still out there, right? I know we've been keeping an eye out after what happened when you came out here to scout the prison that first time. What if –"

"It doesn't matter, Lori. If they're alive … I will stop at nothing to get them back. They're our family, and in this world, nothing means more than that."

*.*.*

Merle took a step towards Marty, his fist clenched tightly, fire blazing from the depths of his eyes, only to freeze as Blake trained the glock on him. His teeth gnashed as he looked at the man. "Why y' got my woman trussed up like a Christmas goose? What's this all about?" he asked, inwardly seething, his rage helping to quell his panic and center his focus.

The governor chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he relaxed back on the table beneath his hip. "Couldn't have her running off to warn you, now could I? Or your little band of misfits."

Merle watched the man lounge back, that smarmy politician's smile etching his lips, relaxed as his cold eyes raked the others with barely concealed disdain. The jig was apparently up, but there was no way a Dixon was going down without a fight. "Don't know whatcha mean. If y' got prisoners t' interrogate, there's no reason y' coulda had not t' call me in."

Blake sighed and shook his head. "Merle, Merle, Merle … you might fancy yourself to be the smartest con man to ever play the game, but you don't fool me. Look what I've built through my own blood, sweat and tears. I made this town into what it is now. It was me who pulled it from the ashes of hell and provided a safe haven for my people. Did you really think your little game would go unnoticed?"

The eldest Dixon stared at his boss blankly, his stomach twisting into knots of apprehension. He caught movement from the corner of his eye, Daryl – likely suffering a concussion – finally rousing from his bump on the head, and he prayed his brother would remain still. He didn't deserve to have the madman's focus settle on him. He felt Shumpert shift behind him, a blow to the back of his legs sending Merle to his knees.

Pretense but a memory, Blake shoved the muzzle of the glock beneath Merle's chin, teeth bared as he stared down menacingly at his former lieutenant. "Did you really think I'd let you take it from me? Take what is MINE!?" the governor roared, delivering a backhanded blow to Merle's cheek. "You had such potential, such leadership capabilities … It's just too bad you didn't have the brains to back up the brawn."

"Yer crazy," Merle sneered, spitting out a mouthful of blood, the inside of his cheek a ragged mess where his teeth had torn it open. "Why would I wanna take this place when I got everythin' I need right here without th' headache o' runnin' th' show?"

Blake changed tactics, ceasing his pacing before the man he'd once trusted and moved slowly in Martine's direction. He paused just behind her chair and Merle's eyes narrowed as if daring the man to touch her. "Now see … that's why we're here. A little give and take seems to be in order." Philip dropped the glock back into its holster and pulled the knife he kept in a sheath on his belt. A wide smirk curled up the left side of his mouth, his teeth gleaming in the low lantern light as he trailed the blade feather-lightly along Marty's jaw. "You give me the answers I want, and I won't take my pound of flesh from our lovely girl here."

"GET TH' FUCK AWAY FROM M' WOMAN!" Merle bellowed, his voice echoing off the tin walls, rage emanating from every pore.

"Your woman?" Blake snorted. "Do you love her, Dixon? Oh, I can see you do, more's the pity. Tell me something … would you still love her if you knew she'd been lying to you? Keeping secrets from you?"

Merle lunged forward, trying to break the hold Shumpert had on him, fighting in vain to keep the big man from securing his hands in place with a set of zip-ties. "Th' fuck?!"

Blake popped a button from the collar of Marty's shirt, his grin widening as she tried to shrink back further into the chair to get away from him. "I stopped in at the clinic this afternoon, and while I was waiting to meet our new arrivals, I had time to do a bit of light reading. Seems your woman is pregnant." He took great delight in the look of stunned horror clouding the face of his enemy. Blake leaned down to whisper against Marty's ear, his hand drifting to the side of her neck to hold her head in place. "Merle doesn't look very happy to hear your bit of news, my dear. I wonder why that is."

Daryl groaned from where he lay sprawled at Carol's feet, his breath hitching in his throat as he tried to move, his eyes flying open to take in his surroundings. His body tensed, every nerve ending jolting alive in the need for flight or fight. Hands tied behind his back, he struggled to his knees, swallowing against the gag in his mouth as nausea rose to choke him from the pain in his head. Succeeding in gaining an upright position, he threw himself between his wife and any threat to her. Not on his watch. It was bad enough he had the focus of the armed men in the room. His gaze darted to each of them before ping-ponging between Merle and Marty. Tears streamed down her face, her lips forming the words 'I'm sorry' as she stared at his brother. Merle looked as if he'd been kicked in the balls. He'd never seen him look so defeated before.

"Finally …" the governor chortled, "…our last guest has decided to join us." He nodded at Martinez to remove Daryl's gag and haul him to his feet.

Daryl swayed unsteadily, shaking his head a bit – regretting it instantly as a painful throb attacked his optic nerves – to clear his blurry vision. "Th' hell are you?" he asked, feeling as if he'd been chewing on sandpaper. That, however, was the least of his worries. "Where are we?"

"I'm the governor, and this is Woodbury … my humble little community," he revealed, flashing a toothy grin. "You were brought here to be tried for trespassing on my property."

"What?! I ain't never been on your property," Daryl hissed sarcastically. "Ain't never even heard o' y' before. Y' s'posed t' be some big shot or somethin'?" He wasn't about to let on to just how much he knew about the man or his town.

"The prison ring a bell? That just so happens to be mine." Once again, he moved to lean casually against the table, his gaze trained on the redneck. "How many of you are there? How were you able to clear out the dead?"

Daryl pressed his lips together in a firm line, his eyes hard, making it clear he wouldn't be divulging any secrets. Blake nodded to Shumpert, and the man sent his meaty fist into Daryl's midsection, causing him to double over. Blake's eyes moved to the silver-haired woman, watching her struggle against her bonds to get to her companion.

"Does this distress you, my dear?" he asked, intrigued by the abject loathing he could see in the woman's eyes. He did so love a woman with fire, and her obvious desire to help her man proved she had it in spades. He might decide to keep her as well. "Perhaps you will answer my questions."

Carol smacked her lips as he pulled the gag from her mouth, trying to force moisture to return to her parched tongue. "Leave him alone. We've done nothing to you, nor are we a threat," she replied in barely more than a whisper. The warrior within her retreated, shrinking back in deference of the mask she chose to wear, one of the meek unassuming housewife she'd once been. "Please, don't hurt him."

The governor smiled gently, almost tenderly at the woman as he leaned forward, his hands braced upon his knees as he bent to her level to meet her eyes. "I don't want to hurt anyone, but I can't allow lawless, dangerous men to roam free around this town. I'm sure you understand my need to keep my people safe."

Carol averted her gaze, refusing to look at Daryl as he stared daggers at her. She could sense his anger, feel his need to lash out and end the monster before them. Her husband was being goaded by his fear for her safety, for Merle, Marty and those they'd left behind at the prison. Yet, she would worry about soothing him later. Right then, she had to do what she could to lessen the potential for disaster in any way she could, despite Daryl being near his breaking point. Helplessness was not a good look for him. She hoped the governor would shift his attention to her, prayed she could somehow talk their way out. It was a slim hope, but a hope regardless.

"Then you should know how it is … to have people who depend on you for their survival. That's all any of us can do now, right?" she said softly, watching him through her lashes. "We're all just trying to survive."

Philip crouched before her, studying her intently. The silver-haired woman intrigued him. He would be the first to admit he was normally attracted to younger women, but this woman … he couldn't get a read on her to tell if she was lying or if there was a ring of truth to both her words and body language. He might have to allow this one to live. He wanted time to uncover each of her secrets at his leisure. "Yes … my people rely on me to keep them safe. There is little trust to be had in this new world. I can't simply take your word that your group is trustworthy, now can I? You would say anything to protect those you care about."

Carol opened her mouth to argue further, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand, nodding at Shumpert. The big man pushed Daryl to his knees next to Carol and Blake didn't hesitate to strike, grabbing a fistful of Daryl's hair and yanking his head back. Dixon struggled, his fingers brushing Carol's boot, inching closer until he could delve his hand inside for the blade she kept tucked within, a small knife he could hide in his palm.

Merle, struggling against his bonds, was a good distraction; as was the soft sob which came from Marty. Blake brought his knife up to the pulse point beneath the redneck's jaw, drawing blood. "You wish to protect this one, my dear? He means something to you?"

"He's m' brother, y' bastard! Let 'im go! Y' want blood, take mine. He ain't done nothin' t' y'," Merle shouted, interrupting, his eyes glued to the trickle of blood trailing down his brother's neck. He owed everything to Daryl. He'd been a poor excuse for a brother, leaving the first chance he'd had to get away from their abusive father, abandoning Daryl to his own personal hell. Later, he'd allowed drugs to turn him into a monster little better than Blake. Daryl had stuck by him, though, and Merle would never be able to make it up to him. Now, he'd rather throw himself under the bus than see his brother suffer. He wasn't the man he had once been, the man who'd cared about nothing but blocking out the pain of his existence. His family was everything, worth sacrificing himself to protect them.

A glint of madness entered the governor's eyes as they swung to his former lieutenant. "Ahh … the plot thickens. Let me guess, Dixon; you thought to install your brother at the prison with his group and plot to take Woodbury for yourselves. Or did you think you would join them and take my secrets with you?"

"I swore m' allegiance t' this town. I didn't think you'd take in m' brother's group … didn't think they'd be a good fit considerin' some o' th' shit you've pulled t' get where y' are. They had t' have a safe place, so yeah … I gave 'em th' prison," he prevaricated. It wasn't all lies, but just enough of the truth to save his own ass … for the moment.

Blake whirled, rising to his feet and backhanding the eldest Dixon, Merle's lip splitting to ooze blood over his stubbled chin. "It wasn't yours to give, though, was it?!" he hissed furiously. "Now, I'm going to have to clean up your mess, Dixon."

"What are you going to do?" Carol asked, unable to hold her tongue. Daryl pressed back against her knees, trying to shield his wife from the governor's gaze, but there was little hope of him helping her trussed up as he was. "Please, just talk to Rick … our leader. Perhaps the two of you could compromise. There's no need for violence among you when the bigger threat should be the walkers."

Philip snorted. "Even you can't be that naïve." He ignored the deep rumbling growl from the man at her feet. "Time for talking died with the spread of this virus. It's take or be taken, kill or be killed." He replaced the knife in his sheath, and turned to sneer down at Merle. "Now, we're going to take a ride. These people mean so much to you … you can watch them die before I kill your brother. Who knows, I might let him turn and have you be his first kill. Only then will I come back here and claim your women. You can think about me raising your child while you pray for death, Dixon."

"Merle!" Marty cried, stark terror awash on her features, hot salty tears trailing over her cheeks. Blake simply laughed as he pulled the man to his feet and pushed him towards the door.

"Shumpert, bring Dixon's brother. We're going for a ride." He shot a glance at Martinez. "Caesar, stay here with the women. I'll want to see them both upon my return."

Carol's eyes were fierce, the fiery need to protect her husband burning in the crystalline depths. Daryl watched as her mask slipped to reveal her warrior spirit, the woman she'd become rather than who she'd been. He struggled against Shumpert as he wrestled Daryl towards the door, fighting to stay with his woman, his wife. The beast roared in his chest as he caught one last glance of her over his shoulder. She would survive until he could come for her. God help them all if she were loosed from her bonds. She would bring the fires of hell down upon them all. It gave him reason to smile. There wasn't a Dixon alive who would go down without a fight.

*.*.*

Martinez didn't waste any time, ducking out of the room to see for himself the moment the governor left the gates to bring his wrath to the prison. He couldn't stand to be in that dingy cell with the women, their accusing gazes glaring daggers at him. As soon as Blake left in the jeep with the brothers - Shumpert, Crowley and Tim following in the truck – he bolted back to them, ready to get them out of there.

He had to force himself to meet Carol's gaze. She appeared outwardly calm, but he suspected she could be just as dangerous as the Dixons – if not more so. He knew for damn sure Merle's woman would slit his throat in the space of a heartbeat if she believed Merle to be compromised. Caesar knelt before Carol and drew his knife from the scabbard on his belt. "Easy there, belleza," he murmured softly as he sliced through her bonds. Leaving her to rub the circulation back into her wrists, he moved to Marty to free her as well.

The man hadn't expected Carol to jump him from behind, her slender arm wrapping around his throat as she pressed a blade to the base of his skull. "Give me one reason not to end you right now," she hissed.

One wrist free, Marty reached out and slapped him hard across the face. "Answer her, asshole!"

Caesar relinquished his knife to the brunette and held up his hands in surrender. "What good would it have done for the governor to think I'd switched sides?" he asked, swallowing thickly as sweat broke out on his brow. "I would be dead, and the two of you would've been left here with another of his men." His dark eyes leveled a concentrated stare at Merle's woman. "It would've been worse for you, and you know it."

Marty nodded at Carol and she reluctantly released him, backing towards the table where their weapons had been tossed. "You'll be lucky if Daryl doesn't put a bolt in your ass just on principle," Carol snorted, slipping her belt back on and checking her pistols.

"It was the only way I could help!"

Marty dried her tears on the hem of her flannel shirt and sorted through her own weapons. She checked the magazine on her 9mm and then slid it into the waistband of her jeans before she lifted the AK to cradle in her arms. "Who else knows what went down here tonight?"

"No one."

"Good. We need t' alert our people an' see 'bout rounding up th' rest of Blake's men. Then th' three of us can get our asses t' th' prison t' see how we can help," Marty said, fighting off a wave of dizziness and cursing herself inwardly for not eating anything for dinner.

Carol hefted the hunting rifle she'd left with that morning, her eyes narrowed on Martinez. "You'd better not be playing us, or I'll kill you myself." Her eyes narrowed menacingly. "Don't underestimate me."

Caesar nodded slowly. "Merle trusted me when he had no reason. It was a big step for him because he believed I was loyal to the governor. He trusted his instincts and welcomed me into the fold, giving me purpose. This is my family, Mrs. Dixon … I will not fail you."

Martine gave him the stink eye as she gathered her long ebony hair and pulled it into a messy bun as she always did before they headed into battle. She retrieved her messenger bag from the table and shoved Merle's armlets into it, checking to see if any of her things had been removed. Satisfied, she slung it over her head and approached the door. "Trust is a hard thing t' earn back. Let's jus' hope Merle doesn't gut y' before y' can explain things t' him."

They didn't encounter anyone as they made their way from the holding cells to the roof of the apartment building. Their people were gathered there, and Abraham huffed a sigh of relief as Marty came through the door no worse for wear.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, darlin'."

Sasha sidled up beside him. "When we saw Blake leave with Merle … and was that Daryl … we weren't sure what the hell was going on."

Tara bumped Carol's shoulder with hers. "And what are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the prison."

Carol sighed as all eyes turned to her. She hated being the center of attention as much as Daryl did, but she knew she'd have to explain. "Daryl and I went hunting this morning … nothing new for us. I'm just glad I had gone with him instead of Sophia." She shuddered at the thought of that madman getting his hands on their daughter. "We were arguing, and the governor's men took us by surprise. We fought, but were outnumbered. Thankfully, his men are careless and didn't think to search me as thoroughly as Daryl."

"That where you got the knife?" Caesar chuckled softly. He'd wondered where she'd gotten the small blade she'd used to threaten him.

"Yes. They missed the one strapped to my forearm and the one in my boot. Daryl lifted that one before the governor had him taken away, so at least he's armed."

"And now Blake's got Merle an' Daryl. He's takin' them t' th' prison, plannin' t' slaughter th' rest of our fam'ly," Marty added, moving to the edge of the roof where Bob kept a careful eye on the street below.

"What do you want us to do?" Tyreese asked quietly, ready for her orders.

"I'm taking Marty and Carol with me to the prison. The rest of you need to mobilize and take out the rest of Blake's men," Caesar said. "Don't really care how you do it. They're scum; rapists, murderers … Merle would be the first to put them down."

Rosita crossed her arms over her chest. "It doesn't feel right killing the living, but I can see your point. There are women and children here who need to be protected, and you know if our people at the prison join us, Rick and Daryl aren't going to want them anywhere near Carl and Sophia."

"Everyone on board with this?" Marty asked, searching the faces of the people she trusted most in the world.

Abraham nodded. "Let's do this."

Bob's dark eyes met Sasha's briefly before he turned his attention to their leader's woman, his second in command. "What about Blake?"

Marty paused with her hand on the doorknob, prepared to leave. Her jade green eyes glowed with purpose. "Leave him t' us. Regardless, he won't be returnin' t' Woodbury, leastways not alive. I promise y' that."

*.*.*

Daryl bowed his head, his chin resting against his chest as the icy wind beat mercilessly against his face and whipped his hair away from his eyes. The open jeep wouldn't have been his first choice of transportation had it been up to him. But this wasn't about needs … no, this was all about the governor putting the Dixon brothers on display for all to see. The stupid fucker, Daryl cursed inwardly. It would take a lot more than that smarmy wannabe politician with his oily smile to take down a Dixon … much less two. Blake was taking his time, actually driving the speed limit as he headed towards the prison, wanting his prisoners to have time to dwell on the minutes they had left.

His arm bumped against Merle as he opened the small pocket knife he'd lifted from his wife's boot, earning a glare and a mumbled epithet. Daryl fought back a smile as Merle turned his focus back on the governor's constant monologue as the man continued to expound on the many vile tortures he had in store for the members of their family. Let Merle think Daryl had given into his nerves. They were squeezed into the tiny bench seat together in the back, and as long as Blake's concentration was on Merle, Daryl could turn his own attention to freeing them.

He had little room to maneuver as he sawed through the zip ties. It would have been so much easier had the governor's men used rope instead, but there was no use pondering what ifs. He had to get them out of this mess. Daryl wanted to blame Merle, but it wasn't his brother's fault … not really. It wasn't his fault the bastard had grown suspicious. He also suspected the governor's desire to claim Marty had had a lot to do with the timetable. He shuddered, not wanting to think about what Blake would try to do to their women.

"Th' fuck y' doin'?" Merle hissed, shooting Daryl another heated glare. "Fidgety little fuck. Now's not th' time for this shit."

"Your brother doesn't seem to be as calmly accepting of his fate as you are, Merle," Blake said cheerfully, eyeing them both through the rearview mirror. "I'm going to enjoy gutting him while you watch … letting him turn so he can feast on you."

Keep dreamin', asshole! Daryl shouted within his head. He didn't like the look of defeat which washed over his brother's face. It was Merle's worst nightmare come to life … having to put down someone he cared about. Daryl remembered all too well how his brother had reacted to their Uncle Drew's death. Merle still blamed himself for freezing up and not putting Drew down before he could take a bite out of Jackson. Daryl still mourned the loss of his uncle, but they were well rid of their father. He didn't want to think of trying to survive this new world with Jackson Dixon hounding his heels. He never would have found the courage to pursue Carol, to save her … love her so openly.

And he did. The need to have her at his side was almost a physical pain in his heart, even though he had no desire for her to be anywhere near the fighting which would surely ensue. Merle's most trusted comrades were still in Woodbury. Surely, they would search for Marty and help her escape … help Carol escape. His wife was a warrior; she would do anything within her power to make her way back to his side, to Sophia. He sent up a silent prayer to a god he'd stop believing in long ago, begging him to keep her safe. She had to live. He didn't want to walk an earth where she didn't exist. He would go on for their daughter if needs be, but he would be empty, forever missing the piece of his heart, his soul, where she dwelled.

Daryl stilled, the knife still resting in his right hand. He could feel the break in the flimsy plastic, knew it wouldn't take much to pry his wrists apart at an opportune moment. He couldn't take the chance of freeing his brother just yet, not with Blake's attention focused on Merle. They needed a distraction once they arrived at the prison. He just hoped it wouldn't cost either of them their lives.

A/n: Well, we're moving a little closer to the endgame. I really hope y'all enjoyed it. Please send me some love (or hate) in a review. Nothing more I love than interacting with my readers :D