Chapter Thirty-Seven: Krabinay II
**Glenn**
He didn't stop running until the gunshots stopped.
By then, doubled over on some dirt road, he felt like his lungs were going to explode. The shouting in the woods had long stopped and in its vacuum void there was dead silence.
He wasn't sure if the road he was standing beside was the road they were on or some new road all together, all he knew was civilization never felt so comforting to him than a simple gravel road.
Flopping into the tall grass, he rested only for a moment, trying hard not to die of a heart attack, hand clenched around the heavy stick he had scooped up in his exodus as a makeshift weapon.
Remembering Carol and Michonne and the way the men had looked at them like cat's eyeing up a mouse, Glenn pushed back to his feet and looked up and down the road both ways for any sign of the vehicles.
He didn't even know where the hell he was anymore, couldn't even make a desperate dash for the location of the other group until he found the highway and could figure things out from there.
Keeping to the ditch in case he needed to make another dash for the cover of the woods, Glenn followed the road in the direction of the south, hoping that with the sun high in the sky, but slightly southerly, he'd be heading in the general direction of the highway.
He thought about going back into the woods, but if the men from the other group were still alive, he'd be shot within seconds of being sighted, so he kept to the road in the hopes of coming across either a place to duck into or the vehicles.
Cresting a hill, he spied two of the vehicles parked on the road below and realized he was heading away from the highway, but in the general direction of where they started.
He didn't see their SUV and couldn't be sure if it was taken by Carol and Michonne or if the men chasing him had doubled back and took it.
Keeping low in the tall grass, he struggled to see if anyone remained alive down below, but couldn't see a single hint of life among the vehicles.
Carefully, he moved towards them, staying hidden in the grass of the ditch.
Approaching them from the side, he could make out one body lying on the road, passed out or dead he assumed. Creeping up the embankment towards the SUV left behind by the men, Glenn gripped his stick tight, hoping it was heavy enough to do damage if he needed, wishing the men or whoever took the other SUV left behind a gun or something.
"Think we killed most of them," someone whispered to him.
Glenn turned, swinging his stick.
The Lieutenant ducked and caught it with a grin.
"Jesus!" Glenn growled. "I thought you were dead!"
"I am the resurrection," the Cajun returned, tilting his head towards the woods. "You have very little faith in my abilities as a sharp shooter, don't you?"
"Hey, you said don't stop running until I get someplace and I just figured—" he glanced in the direction he had come from, towards the hill and leapt back as a pair of green eyes met his from the left flank. "Fuck me!"
Kowalski blinked irritably at him.
"Jumpy, aren't you?" The Lieutenant asked as they climbed out of the ditch.
"I think the girls got away," Glenn said, kicking the boot of the man with a screwdriver in his head. "At least I hope they did."
Motioning to the Marine, the Lieutenant pointed to the body before them and made a pistol with his fingers, asking him how many he shot.
Kowalski scowled and popped open the shotgun he was holding to show both barrels were empty.
"Two for the young man with the mild distemper, five in the woods, two here, one missing, no sign of the women, I'd say they took a prisoner home." The Lieutenant figured. "One man wouldn't be enough for either girl."
Heading for the Humvee, Glenn eyed it. She was a beauty, painted white, heavy all-weather tires, leather interior and just enough body to make her beautiful.
"Don't get attached, peeshawk. She sticks out like a sore thumb around these parts, we loot her and leave her." The Lieutenant said, wrenching open the back door and hauling out bags and camping gear for Kowalski to load up into the other SUV, the Cajun was holding his ribs tightly as he did this.
Glenn scowled. "But we shouldn't just leave her here, she should be parked somewhere safe. Just in case we want her later. She's a diesel," he added hopefully, knowing they were the vehicle of choice for the group.
Pausing long enough to stare at him, the Lieutenant cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose you can drive Kowalski home in her, we'll split the spoils of war as a peace offering for his people. I'll head home to let them know we're not dead, to see if Carol and Michonne did get back after all."
For the first time in what felt like a year, Glenn beamed widely.
Reaching out, the Cajun yanked his baseball cap down over his eyes and began tossing things back into the back of the Humvee for the other group.
Glenn didn't care, he was too happy to be driving something he had only ever dreamed of. This was the Mustang incident all over again. He hopped in and started her up, trying to find first with some difficulty. The gear made some kind of angry sound and Glenn immediately pulled back his hand like it was burnt.
"Oh-ye-yi, if you can't find, grind it, loutre."
Turning the engine off in mild embarrassment, Glenn hopped out of the vehicle again. "I don't really drive a lot of standards."
Stepping up beside them, Kowalski cleared his throat and motioned to a dust storm heading for them from the direction of the highway.
Pulling a wide barrelled gun from a bright orange plastic box in the back of the SUV, the Lieutenant handed it off to Glenn and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Let's hit the ditch, yeah?"
"I think this is a flare gun," Glenn pointed out as they hopped into the tall grass to watch the approaching vehicles with narrowed eyes.
"Yeah, but I'm sure it'll still hurt like hell to get shot with it." The Cajun replied. "Better than nothing," he added with a charming grin, propping his recovered .308 up onto the embankment of the ditch, readying himself for a fight. With a small, sly grin, the Cajun reached into the waistband of his pants, hidden by his shirt and pulled out a 9mm. "I guess you can use this one."
Glenn, miffed that the Lieutenant was holding out on him, tossed the flare gun into the grass behind them and checked the pistol quickly, counting the rounds, before he was satisfied.
Peering down the scope, the Lieutenant waited for a beat, before pulling back from it with a small grin. "It's one of ours. Michonne's driving."
"Are you sure? What if it's a trick?"
"Merle sitting in the front seat beside her kind of gives away the illusion, Glenn."
Still, they waited for the SUV to make a complete stop behind the parked vehicles on the road, Daryl's motorcycle pulling in behind.
The Lieutenant stood up from the grass and whistled to Merle, who turned on him with his pistol drawn.
"Car trouble?" Michonne asked softly.
"Honeychild, we had all colours of trouble. Good to see you made it out safe. Carol?"
"She's fine, at the prison with Rick and the prisoner." Daryl said, moving to clap the Cajun on the shoulder in greeting. "Way she figured you bit it in the woods."
"Almost," Glenn said. "I still don't know how exactly we weaseled out of being shot in the back by those hairy, backwoods apes."
"Qwijibo," the Lieutenant corrected.
"How did you get out of this one, Lieutenant?" Michonne demanded.
The Cajun beamed at her, hitching his thumb wordlessly at Kowalski who still had blood on the top of his helmet from the ordeal.
The young Marine blinked at him.
"I'll fill you in, I guess," Glenn said.
"We'll pack up while you do." Daryl said. "Get the hell out of here as soon as possible."
..-~-..
..-~-..
**Earlier**
"Get moving!" Pete commanded, shoving Glenn hard from behind.
Staggering, Glenn glowered, but couldn't really do much about it, holding his hands to the back of his head and marching towards a clearing just out of sight of the road through the thick of the trees.
"Here," he said, shoving Glenn to his knees.
Wondering briefly if maybe he lived a slothful life of playing too many video games and eating whatever leftover pizza Mr. Carlson sent home with him, Glenn offered a quick prayer to pretty much any deity he had heard of, just in the off chance one of the religions was right.
"Take your helmet off!" The greasy fellow with Pete commanded, shoving Kowalski down to his knees as well.
Glancing over, across the Lieutenant's stony face, Glenn caught sight of the young Marine narrowing his eyes in confusion.
"Take the goddamned helmet off, dipshit!" Pete commanded.
"He's deaf," the Lieutenant explained.
"Fucking retard," the other man taunted.
The Lieutenant made a motion to Kowalski to remove his helmet.
Reaching up, touching the brim of his military issue helmet with the barest twitch of his brow, Kowalski studied the Lieutenant's motions.
Before Glenn could register the meaning of the twitch, the young Marine was up and swinging his helmet at the man behind him, catching him square in the nose and sending him flying backwards.
The Lieutenant had Pete on his back and finished him with an elbow to his face.
Glenn, standing in shock at how fast it all went down, gaped at them helplessly for a moment, before it registered that they were free.
Kowalski, still beating the greasy man's face in with his helmet, didn't seem to notice the other two, as he wailed on the man until he stopped moving.
The Lieutenant scooped his gun out of the man's hand with a scowl.
"Hey, Pete!" Someone shouted from the edge of the woods where they had come in. "Let's haul ass, huh?"
The three men looked amongst themselves for a quickfire plan. Glenn - the one to make a decision - licked his lips and attempted his best hillbilly voice to mimic Pete the hamburger faced corpse.
"Give me a few goddamned minutes, dipshit! Jesus!" He shouted.
The Lieutenant smirked and began, "alright," he whispered. "We need to draw the men away from Carol and Michonne, I'll put these two down for good, you shout about a runner and take off running, don't stop until you hit home." Reaching over, he grabbed Kowalski to get his attention, making a shooting motion, pointing between the two of them, before pointing to Glenn, making a running motion. Finally he pointed two fingers at his own eyes, telling the Marine to just follow his lead.
Kowalski nodded and handed him a 9mm he had retrieved from the dead greasy guy.
Striding forward, the Lieutenant shot both men dead, square in the forehead, before everyone sprang into action, Glenn pausing long enough to shout out, "we've got a runner!" He waited a beat for the crashing and snapping of men hauling ass into the woods, before taking off.
"There's probably some more guns and goodies to loot off the men we left in the woods," the Lieutenant pointed out as Glenn finished his tale. "But, I have a feeling we'll be back this way yet."
"Why's that?" Merle asked as they divided the last of the loot between the Humvee and the SUV.
"Because I know where them boys might be hiding out."
"How?" Glenn asked.
"When we were travelling this way, every crossroads we came to had a red rag tied to something, indicting which way we needed to turn. Probably so all those boys could get back to base camp in unfamiliar territory."
"So, we're loaded for bear now, huh?" Daryl demanded.
The Lieutenant nodded. "They didn't make nice with me, I say we rub them off the face of this earth, do everyone a favour."
"Well, we won't get anywhere standing around here," Merle interrupted. "Be safer to make plans back home."
"Do you still want me to head over to Delgado's with Kowalski?" Glenn asked.
"Best hit home for tonight, we'll head over to Delgado's again tomorrow with more firepower and men to back us. Knowing him, he'll want to give us some men for back up going into their camp," the Lieutenant stopped mid-sentence as Kowalski touched his arm and made a walking motion.
He shook his head.
Kowalski again made the motion and pointed to himself.
Fumbling in his many pockets, the Lieutenant pulled out a small notebook and pen and scribbled something in it for the Marine to see.
Reading the message, Kowalski shook his head and again made the walking motion.
"Alright," the Lieutenant said to Glenn. "I'll hitch a ride with you to Delgado's with Kowalski, he seems eager to get back tonight."
"I'll come with you," Michonne offered.
"Same," Daryl said.
"Well, hell," Merle said. "I ain't going back alone. May as well come along for the ride."
"Alright, then let's hit out of here before someone comes this way." The Lieutenant said. "Oh, but Glenn has to walk."
"What?" Glenn demanded. "Why?"
"You couldn't remember the Alamo."
..-~-..
..-~-..
That night, seated safely inside Delgado's territory, in the Hollander's home, their leader sat listening grimly to the story he was being told, his face dark.
Glenn, tearing into a slice of fresh bread with butter, smiled blissfully at the curvy black woman who was pouring him homemade iced tea and thanked her. After the day he had he figured anything would taste like heaven, but somehow fresh bread and butter and iced tea was like ambrosia of the Gods to him. It beat the rice and meat rations they were on back at the convent.
After storytime was over, Delgado sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead, pushing his solid frame away from the table enough to throw his combat boots onto a nearly stool.
"Alright," the Marine said after thinking it all over. "Considering more than half of my people are of the XX variety of chromosomes, I'd say they pose a fairly dangerous threat to us. It's eat or be eaten by this point in American history."
The Lieutenant, politely swallowing a mouthful of bread, cleared his throat. "I know we're all a little sick of fighting, Delgado, believe me. Of anyone, you and I and that poor boy in the tree outside have all had enough bloodshed in our lives, but we'd be obliged if you'd provide some back up on this one."
"Of course," Delgado said. "I can spare three maybe four men. I don't think I'd ask any of the women to go into a mess like that, with men like that, but I can think of at least two or three here who'd go in gladly. Naturally the elderly here and the children won't fight, and I won't leave them without guns to watch over them, but you can have whoever I can spare." Pushing to his feet, the stormy man sighed again and touched the Lieutenant on the shoulder. "You can ride out the dark here, we'll make up some beds—"
"No," the Lieutenant broke in. "They think we're dead back home, shouldn't leave them worrying like that. We'll take the backroads here tomorrow, make plans from there."
"I'd feel a lot better if you stayed the night," Delgado said.
Glenn didn't miss the worried look the man wore, he couldn't when it was worn so obvious on the premature lines of the Marine's face. Looking to his left, Glenn exchanged furrowed brows with Merle, who was sitting on a stool wrested from the kitchen, eating over a plate balanced on his lap.
"Something eating at you, Corporal?" The Lieutenant asked in a very commanding officer manner.
Sometimes Glenn forgot the man was a Marine, and an officer at that, he was too amiable and easy going, but it was times like these, when he spoke like that, which reminded Glenn that the Lieutenant was once a very powerful man in the USMC's.
"About six last evening, Burke in the tree said he thought he spied movement coming up our driveway, fired a few pot shots in that direction to either flush out an infected or scare off whatever was creeping up our drive. I think us taking out those men scared them off, but not long enough."
"You thinking they might make a play for you and yours tonight?" Daryl asked, from where he was skulking in the doorway just outside of the dining room in the hall.
Delgado nodded. "I hope to God they aren't, but to be honest with all we have, we're a prime target for people who take."
"Mais," the Lieutenant said, running a hand through his hair, it was getting as shaggy as Daryl's, "if none of my people object, I wouldn't mind giving you that peace of mind."
"I have no where better to be," Glenn said, knowing no one would be missing him back at the convent.
The others seemed to be of the same frame of mind, he assumed it was because, had the roles been reversed, they wouldn't mind the back up to protect the people they loved from thieves and rapists and all kinds of murderers.