Winter is arriving.
All of the telltale signs are already present.
Though the morning sun has begun its climb into the pale and ashen-colored sky, the planet remains frigid and chilly. The trees that surround us lay naked, having long lost all of their leaves. Beneath my feet, the grass has hardened in response to the cold, causing it to crunch beneath my boots as we again approach the wall of Hilltop. There are only four of us this time; myself, Carl, Rick, and Daryl. Rick's idea, of course. According to him, moving in small numbers would be best in order to avoid attracting the attention of Negan and his Saviors. As we approach, our breath rises in tangible puffs of vapor, joining together with the dreary air all around us. Today marks the first day I have officially moved into my winter clothing; a long sleeve, wool, shirt colored in lime, worn underneath a knee-length black trench coat which is buttoned up to trap heat, and a black wool knit cap pulled down over the top of my head, covering my ears as well; a pair of black combat pants, and a matching pair of winter boots. The change of attire certainly does it's job. I'm a lot warmer than I would've been in my Fall attire.
Next to me, Carl is in similar wardrobe, his cheeks crimson due to the stinging kiss of frigid air. I'm certain mine look about the same. His hands frantically seek warmth in the confines of his own blue-jean jacket to seemingly no avail. All of us are cold and tired. As our four man group breaks the treeline, a howling winter wind brushes the ground, buffeting us and forcing Carl and I to put up our clothed arms to block some of is fury. Ahead, I can make out the shapes of two men walking the top of the wall, scouring the countryside for walkers. Despite all of the disadvantages of winter, the season's change has one major advantage; the chilled air seems to slow down the walkers. This halves the work of the wall security teams in both Alexandria, and, I suspect, here in Hilltop as well. We come to a once-muddy pathway leading up to the wall. Each of our footfalls crunches through the hardened earth and, once we are in hearing distance of the wall scouts, it manages to draw their attention.
"Stop!" one of the men shouts. "Don't come any closer!"
From this distance, I can clearly make out the scout duo. Both are also bundled in winter clothing and both are wielding the spears we'd seen them wield during our last visit days ago.
"We don't want any trouble!" Rick howls back at them. "We need to meet with Jesus!"
I don't think I'll ever get used to that.
Well, to two things; Rick using Paul's nickname, which he hadn't done anytime prior, and Paul's nickname itself. Carl is getting used to using it too, though, so I suppose I have no choice but to conform and try.
"Stay where you are!" one of the men shouts back. "He'll meet you there!"
Pleased with the response, Rick relents to waiting. It doesn't take Jesus long to reach the gate from wherever he was inside. Before I am able to truly appreciate the wait, both large wooden doors swing open, granting us access to the Hilltop once again. From within the entrance to the community, Jesus emerges with a bewildered look on his face. The man clearly wasn't expecting our group to return so soon. Upon recognizing us, he hastily hurries over to us for a more proper greeting.
"Rick!" Jesus exclaims. "And Daryl, Tanner, and Carl! I wasn't expecting you."
"We need to talk." Rick cuts directly to the chase.
Jesus's expression immediately hardens, as if sensing not only Rick's urgency, but the gravity of the situation as well. Its almost as though the man can sense where the conversation is already heading and is preparing himself for the worst. The sudden shift in tone seems to alert the two wall scouts who have come along with Paul. I'm sure it is no real question of what is causing Rick to act serious. To the people of Hilltop, Negan and his Saviors are well known for their brutality and so I'm certain Jesus already knows they're involved, or suspects it at the very least. Wordlessly, the large man motions us through the threshold and into the survivor camp, before swiftly having the gates shut.
"What's happened?" Jesus inquires gravely.
"A friend of ours was killed the other day." Rick replies. "Brutally. You can guess who."
"Negan?"
Jesus flinches at just saying his name. While he awaits Rick's response, the large man glances around at Daryl, Carl, and I. The looks on our faces, all of us having been present for Tyreese's execution, seems to be confirmation enough for him, even without Rick's words as reinforcements. Eventually, however, Rick musters up the necessary fortitude to nod his head in confirmation.
"So then," Jesus continues. "They know?"
"If you mean they know about our deal," Carl suddenly interjects. "Then yes."
Recalling that horrid night, Negan had indeed indicated that he knew of something going on between Hilltop and Alexandria. I am unsure if he knew the exact nature of the deal, but that no longer matters. The damage has already been dealt. Jesus studies Carl hard for several silent moments. Carl stares back just as hard. I have yet to figure out what the two of them find so interesting about each other, but everytime they're around each other, both spend most of their time studying the other. Its something I'll have to ask Carl about later, as it greatly intrigues me. Either way, Jesus's face suddenly brightens up, as if a light bulb has gone off in his head.
"Oh God..." he breathes. "Did you two...?"
"See it?" now its my turn to jump in this conversation. "Unfortunately, yes."
Jesus grimaces.
"I... I'm so sorry." he continues. "To all of you. I can't bring your friend back, nor can I make it up to you for dragging you into this conflict. We should go inside." he says, motioning towards the house we'd originally met him in days ago. "We can talk more, in private, there."
Rick merely nods his agreement.
The demeanor in Hilltop has changed in the brief time since my last visit here. I notice this as we make our way through the survivor colony towards the small meeting place. What survivors I've seen so far all seem timid, as if our arrival has somehow put them all on edge for something bad to happen. I can hardly blame them. The last time we came here, their former leader was stabbed and killed by a captured member of their community, sent by the Saviors themselves. Rick too seems to have noticed this shift in behavior, as he is keenly eyeing the members of this community as we pass them by. Eventually, however, we reach the house and waste no time pushing open the front door and assembling in the interior front room. The house is just as dusty as I remember it. I don't know why I expected any change, but a man can dream. Jesus leads us up the familiar flight of stairs, leading to the room we'd met in during our last meeting; a small personal library that I suspect once belonged to Gregory.
"Now," Jesus breaks the silence, shutting the door behind us. "I don't suppose you all came here just to tell me about the death of your friend?"
"As a matter of fact, no, we didn't." Rick replies. "There's more."
Jesus silently inhales with anticipation.
"This Negan guy made a demand." he continues.
"Let me guess," Jesus interjects, folding his arms. "In exchange for your lives, you all have to work for him?"
"How do you know that?" Daryl snarls from the corner he's perched in.
"Did you forget?" Jesus counters. "He did the same to us. Half of our food and supplies belong to him. Otherwise..."
"...there'll be more killings." I finish for him, remembering Negan's words.
Jesus nods solemnly.
"We're not complying." Rick suddenly, boldly declares.
This statement seems to genuinely startle Jesus. I can see why it might. Negan is a truly terrifying figure who exacts his deals by spilling the blood of innocent people. To disobey such a dangerous and unstable person is an incredibly reckless decision, one Jesus was never willing to risk, but Rick, being the leader that he is, simply won't bow down. I briefly recall a story Michonne once told me; about how the Governor demanded Rick exchange her for the safety of the prison and while he originally planned to go through with it, Rick's consciousness wouldn't allow it to go through. Rick has never been a man to sacrifice his principles to appease a madman and so it is no shock to myself that he has decided to rebel against the fearsome Saviors. It is simply in the elder Grimes' nature.
"What do you propose?" Jesus queries cautiously.
"We have to put our foot down." Rick insists. "No more killings. None of our supplies go to him. We fight back. There are more of us and we can fight too."
"Fight him?"
"You have the numbers. Would you rather be slaves to that madman for the rest of your lives?"
"No." Jesus very nearly barks, a sharp rise in his tone. "But all the same, I don't like violence. Even less, I don't like it when my people are needlessly killed. That's all fighting will bring."
"I hate to burst your bubble." Rick hisses. "But in just the past couple of days, two people have been senselessly murdered because of that man. Now, we either give him a pass on that and send him the message that we're okay with that... Or... we stick to our guns and ensure he never does it again."
That shuts Jesus up.
Its funny how time changes people. Usually, I am very much against violence where it is avoidable. In my mind, we should save our bullets for the walkers rather than constantly shooting at each other. But this time is different. Tyreese was murdered. Slaughtered mindlessly by a man whom, in the same night, also threatened to do the same to the rest of my friends and family who hadn't done anything to provoke him. Had never even laid eyes on him before. The only way to deal with that threat is to kill it. In this instance, fighting back isn't senseless; its the right thing to do. Its the only way the Saviors will ever stop.
"We either fight." Rick continues. "Or we lay down and be slaves. Those are our only options."
Jesus folds his arms and leans against the nearby wall. His eyes glaze over as he dives into his thoughts and considers what Rick has just told him. I have to give him credit. His reasons for not wanting to fight aren't cowardly. The leader of his people in Gregory's place, Jesus doesn't want to needlessly endanger them. Rick has had to make that choice one too many times, though, and has experience as to why fighting is sometimes better than remaining peaceful. Once more, the bearded man's eyes light up and he suddenly snaps up off of the wall.
With a crooked smile, he declares; "There is a third option."
####
"Ezekiel?"
Jesus has hit us with a new revelation and one I wasn't expecting. Rick also seems flabbergasted and studies the older man meticulously.
"Run that by me again." the elder Grimes states in disbelief.
"I told you," Jesus begins. "Aside from yours, there are three survivor camps in this region. You know about us and the Saviors, but there is a third, run by a very reclusive man named Ezekiel. His camp is in the capitol itself, in one of the old high schools. Eastern High School, I think. I've met with him once or twice on Gregory's behalf. Maybe we could get him to side with us."
"How many people does he have?" Daryl chimes in.
"I can't say for sure." Jesus replies. "But at least a couple dozen."
"What makes you think he'll want to help us?" Rick continues to question him.
"His community is part of our trading network." Jesus explains. "They've been our allies for years. If we were to convince Ezekiel that the supply line is being threatened by Negan, he may very well join in on our side."
"You don't sound too sure of yourself."
"Nothing is ever certain these days." Jesus snaps. "But the more allies we have the better. I'll even volunteer to take you there."
Rick steps back and silently considers Jesus' words. The Hilltop leader is right. More allies could only heighten our chance for success. I use the break in the conversation to ponder Carl. My love looks to his father thoughtfully, anxiously awaiting Rick's answer. Time has repaired Rick and Carl's previously frayed relationship and Carl's admiration for his father has only increased over the past couple of years. He must've sensed my eyes on the back of his head, because he turns and regards me with a half smile. This whole situation, ever since Tyreese died, has weighed quite visibly on Carl. His eyes, usually brimming with determination and confidence, have dimmed significantly with anxiety and grief. I offer him the best reassuring smile I can. Not even a week ago, the two of us were happily back in Alexandria, more worried about getting through the winter than fighting a potential war. Now we have to consider both. I wonder, in my heart of hearts, if this is what Carl and his group endured when the Governor attacked them at the prison.
"Very well." Rick finally says, breaking my thoughts. "You take us there and I'll speak with this Ezekiel myself."
Jesus nods, "Good man."
"What about us?" Carl pipes up. "Are we going with you?"
Rick sighs aloud.
"No." he replies firmly. "I need you two back home. Keep an eye on Judith, help Abraham, Glenn, and Maggie. I'll take Daryl and Michonne. With Jesus that makes four people. That's more than enough for this job."
"And what if you guys run into trouble?" Carl argues, always persistent. "We did last time. It could be worse this time."
Rick carefully studies his son.
I often forget just how tense it can get when these two disagree.
Only this time it is Carl speaking from experience rather than Rick. Rick wasn't there with us on the road when the Saviors ambushed us and killed Tyreese. Other than what we've told him, he has no idea what he's up against. But, today, Rick isn't in the mood for arguments. His mind is made up and even though his son is an adult, the elder Grimes has no problem speaking his mind, even now.
"We'll have to risk it." he replies to his son. "Your sister needs you and I need you there too." Surprisingly, my father-in-law then looks up from his son directly to me. "That going to be a problem?"
I hate it when he does that.
Dragging me into his and Carl's arguments. I'm convinced that he does it because he knows dragging me into it is the only way to make Carl see it his way, but I'm still very much against such involvement. Especially because, this time, I partially agree with both of them. With Carl because I think Rick could use the extra manpower. Carl and I aren't children, even though we're young, and are quite capable fighters on our own. On the other hand, I know that Rick is counting on Alexandria to keep us safe, and is probably worried that if he takes us in the event that they do, in fact, get ambushed again, we could become Negan's next victims. Both Grimes men are now glaring at me, both seeking my support for their proposals, which only makes me further irritated. Before I can open my mouth, which will either get me in trouble with one of them or both of them, Jesus senses the tension and comes to my rescue.
"He'll be safe, Carl." Jesus promises, drawing the younger Grimes' gaze off of me. "I promise that on my life."
Carl's eyes narrow briefly before he releases a hearty sigh and relents.
"Fine."
Crisis adverted.
There for a minute, I thought I'd be put in the frying pan. I could hug Jesus right now.
The arrangements made, Jesus again escorts us outside. After being rather cozy within the house for sometime now, the sudden contact with the frigid outside air elicits from me a full body shiver. Though it is the season of my birth, I despise the winter. Being born and raised in Texas, later living in Georgia for several years before coming here. I am used to heat. Humid, sticky, dry heat. In Texas, this was almost all year round. Even in the winter. In Georgia, the winters were harsh, but it was still mostly heat. The cold in this region, though better than it would be further north, is something I'm still not used to even after three years of living here. I don't see how Rick or Carl, or any of the others for that matter, seem to shrug it off like it is nothing to them. I tighten my jacket around me to prevent future cold chills and trying to put the temperature out of my mind.
Carl and I hang back from the others, allowing them to walk in front of us. I occasionally glance over at him from time to time as we make the journey back towards the gate. To anyone who knows him, it'd be immediately apparent that Carl isn't acting himself. Head down, eyes on the ground, and silent to boot, Carl is quite visibly lost in his thoughts. Ahead of us, I can hear the others talking about something, but I can't quite tell what. I'm too focused on considering what all Carl could be thinking about. More importantly, is he alright? I purposely begin to walk closer to Carl until I can reach out and take his limp hand in my own. His hand is ice cold and stiff, however, by threading my fingers through his and squeezing tightly, I can feel the warmth begin to travel out of mine and into his, reviving it somewhat. He takes notice of this, almost looking startled as he is shaken from his thoughts. Carl curiously glances at my hand, the source of his distraction, then looks to me. That's how I know he's really out of it.
Its almost as if he didn't connect the hand holding his to be mine because he was so lost in his other thoughts. Eventually, however, he returns my squeeze with a much softer one of his own.
"Are you alright?" I ask him, flashing him a concerned glance.
Carl's gaze returns to his feet for a moment, pondering my question.
I'll take that as a "no", even though that's not the response I get:
"Dad should be taking us with him." Carl replies instead. "We can help."
"There are other ways we can help him too." I counter softly. "Carol has been watching after Judith almost the entire time this thing has been going down. She needs her big brother. Not to mention, the community is in danger too. That's our home. We need to be there to protect it."
Over the years, I've gotten better at telling Carl the way I see things; even if it contrasts with how he sees things.
In the past, I was always afraid my opinion would anger him if mine disagreed with his, but we've both matured in that regard quite a bit. In this same regard, Carl will always tell it to me straight, even if I don't always want to hear what he has to say. But, then again, he's never had a particular issue with doing that. Carl has pretty much always been a straight shooter, no matter what the case. That being said, I can immediately tell that Carl is torn between not liking my answer and agreeing with me. I can tell this, because he can't quite form a facial expression. He starts to frown, but can't quite seem to do it. That is because Carl is fiercely protective of us, his family. He's split between his duty to protect and watch after his younger sister, his desire to keep me out of harm's way, and his determination to fight by his father's side. Even so, reason wins out, and Carl relents again:
"I know." he murmurs.
He doesn't sound convinced, however.
I try to offer him reassurance with another squeeze of his hand.
"Hey," I prompt, getting his attention. "Your dad is one tough son of a bitch. He's going to be alright. And we're going to get through this. Just like we have with everything else."
Carl merely nods his agreement, so I make a mental note to make a concerted effort in order to make him feel better once we are safely back home.
Shortly thereafter, we arrive back at the gates of Hilltop.
Jesus informs his people of the mission he is about to undertake and assures them that he will come back in one piece. I can sympathize with his people's worries. They only just lost their original leader several days ago. Losing another would be a huge blow for them and one that could potentially drive a rift into the community. Once the formalities are out of the way, our group exits the gates without incident. Our vehicle, like last time, is parked downhill a short distance away from the Hilltop's main gates. Though we hadn't originally intended to be bringing Jesus back with us, there is plenty of room for him, and we are presently making the journey back to Alexandria, even as the sun reaches its full afternoon height in the sky above us. I continue to allow Carl to cling on to my hand as Rick drives us home. It seems, at least partially, to be helping ease his concerns about his father's situation.
The silence that fills our car ride home is peaceful. I use the opportunity to lean my head against the window and watch the scenery as it passes by. Its not quite the sight seeing that tourists would've done in the old days. The walkers didn't just bring rot to the human race, but to the entire world. Nowadays, everything looks like it is rotting. The trees, the grass, the skies, the remnants of human civilization laying in waste all around us. Its a depressing and, yet, morbidly interesting sight to behold. Every now and then we pass a straggling walker limping its way across the road. The sound of our engine, of course, alerts them, but they are much too slow to pose a threat. The road winds almost endlessly through the countryside towards the formerly densely populated metropolitan area.
It isn't until we are very nearly home that we begin to notice something isn't quite right.
There are tread marks on the highway that are particularly fresh and weren't present when we left earlier this morning. Daryl, an expert hunter and tracker, is the one who first notices this and alerts Rick. Suddenly, the silence that was once peaceful, becomes tense with anticipation. Our next clue comes on the turn right before reaching the gates of home. Dead walkers. With the treeline, they are much too far out to have been killed by our wall team. These walkers also weren't here this morning. By now, all five of us are on high alert. We round the corner and our greatest fears are finally confirmed.
The first thing that hits my sight are cars. Vehicles that don't belong to us. What's particularly unsettling about them, is that they are positioned quite oddly, and two of them are smoking. As I follow the trail, I realize that the reason they are smoking is because these particular vehicles are crashed into the gates of Alexandria itself. Rick immediately brings the vehicle to a grinding halt. That's when I see the true magnitude of the attack. The gates have been smashed open, several walkers lingering in the entrance. There are no immediate signs of damage to the walls themselves, but that doesn't quite matter. Walkers are in the camp and, scarily enough, they may not be the worst things to have gotten in. In a flurry, Rick kicks open his door, followed swiftly on the other side, by Daryl and then Jesus. Carl and I follow their lead, leaping out of the car after them.
"Stay close!" Rick hisses in a hushed tone. "We don't know what's happened yet."
Instinctively, we all draw our weapons.
Everyone of us knows we're going to need them shortly. As we rush the entrance of the camp, I use the silence of my sword to easily dispatch the straggling walkers, allowing us to safely push our way through the damaged entrance. Inside Alexandria is more evidence of an attack. Debris litter the street, a nearby car is blazing in an inferno, and yet, there is no sight of anything or anyone. The colony is like a ghost town. There aren't even any bodies suggesting a drawn out fight. Its only then that I realize where Rick is leading us. Before I know it, we're standing in front of the house that Carol and Daryl live in. The house where she was watching after Judith before we left this morning. Rick wastes no time kicking in the front door and clearing the front room. One room turns into two, then three, and before long, we've cleared them all.
No signs of Carol or Judith.
Carl is very visibly affected by this.
Where could they be?
Were they killed? Did they escape? Are they hiding?
There is literally nothing in the house that would give us any clue about an answer to any of those questions. In their favor, however, the house shows no signs of forced entry or a struggle. Knowing Carol, a very shrewd and cunning woman, they very likely escaped whatever has befallen our community. At least, they escaped this house.
"Where could she be?" Carl suddenly airs his concerns, a slight edge of panic to his tone.
My heart is racing.
"We'll find her." I assure him, though it does little to help either of us.
"Let's keep looking." Rick snarls, bursting back out the front door and into the lawn.
The search isn't in vain. Not entirely.
As we start up the street again, a woman in her late fifties stumbles out of a nearby lawn, having spotted us, and makes a beeline for us. I know this woman only by name. Margret. She is one of the newer members of the community, having arrived with her husband and grandchildren. On the surface, she doesn't look wounded, but her sobbing face tells me that something is still very much wrong with her. Her sobs quickly turn to wails as she reaches Rick and immediately begins to divulge just what has happened.
"Rick!" she sobs. "They came! Those men came!"
"Who came?!" Rick demands, attempting to remain calm.
"Those men you told us about!"
My heart sinks as my worst fear is confirmed.
The Saviors have been here.
"Where are they?!" Rick snarls. "Where is everyone else?!"
"They're still here!" Margret wails. "At the church!"
My head immediately swivels towards the steeple rising up in the distance, over several housetops. So that's where they are. We don't waste time. Rick breaks out into a run towards the building the aging woman had indicated to, with the rest of us directly behind him. It is a frantic, panicked run that sees us leaping over fences and through bushes to take the shortcut towards the building. The good news is that we reach the church in a very short amount of time. The bad news is what we found outside of it. Unfortunately, Margret was right. The Saviors are still here. I can never forget their faces. Least of all can I forget the man at the front of their congregation of evil.
Negan.
####
"Took you folks long enough." Negan barks in the open church lawn.
Negan is pacing back and forth in front of his followers, Lucile, his spiked bat from Hell perched against his shoulder as he does. Oddly enough, though, he isn't the most frightening sight I see. Rather, what's behind him is. The scene triggers a powerful flashback from the other night. Behind Negan, on their knees, are Glenn and Maggie. Spread around the yard, the others are being held off at gunpoint by the remains of Negan's forces, unable to do anything to help our friends. I cop a glance at Rick. The older Grimes looks absolutely murderous. It is clear that his rage has been fully tapped on upon seeing Glenn and Maggie in the current state, even on top of everything we've seen of the community up until now. Scanning the crowd, I am once again floored by the fact that I can't seem to see Carol or Judith.
The sinking feeling in my stomach is steadily growing.
"You let them go!" Rick barks his demand.
"Quit 'yer fuckin' yapping!" Negan roars in response. "Boys! Bring 'em here."
I'm blind sighted.
This whole thing was a trap meant to lure us to the church.
Suddenly, there is a very sharp pain in my side, knocking the wind out of me as we're ambushed from behind. Before I can stagger to recover, my weapon is stripped from me, tossed to the side, and I am violently restrained. It doesn't take me long to see that Rick, Daryl, Carl, and Jesus are suffering from similar treatment. Against our will, we are dragged towards the lawn and promptly shoved down in front of Negan, mere feet away from where Glenn and Maggie are being held. Glenn bares a look similar to Rick's. Murderous, yet unable to do anything about his current predicament. Maggie, on the other hand, looks completely distraught by her position. Defiant, but distraught. Above us, Negan continues to pace, treating the whole situation as if its some sick game to him.
"I thought," the gang leader booms. "I sent a message loud and fucking clear. Kill a guy, I told myself, and they'll get the fuckin' picture. Imagine my shock when my scouts tell me you assholes are still meetin' with one another! Concocting your little fuckin' schemes, no doubt. I see you even brought Jesus with you!"
Negan stops in front of the bearded man and offers him a demonic sneer.
"How'd that turn out for 'ya, shithead?" he continues. "I have to hand it to 'ya, Rick. You are Rick, right?" Negan jeers at the elder Grimes. "This is a pretty sweet fuckin' set up you guys got here. Sorry I had to go and ruin your front door, but your two friends here weren't too keen on letting us in. So let this be a lesson to you. If I tell you to open those goddamn gates, you open those motherfuckers up! Got it?!"
Rick is visibly seething.
In all my years of knowing him, I don't think I've ever seen the elder Grimes in such a furious state. I know he's only got a few more seconds in him before he blows.
"Now, I've got to do something about you." Negan hisses. "Killin' one of 'yer buddies didn't do the fuckin' trick. So, I thought to myself, what can I do to get my point across to you? I think I've come to a pretty good goddamn solution, I tell ya. See, word on the street is, you have a kid."
My heart freezes.
"And I was thinkin' that if somethin' were to happen to this kid, you might get the fuckin' point."
That's all Rick can take.
He lunges.
Negan is prepared for this, however. In fact, I really believe that he intentionally provoked Rick into attacking, giving him a reason to throw out his rather large foot, catching the elder Grimes in the gut and sending him hard to the earth below. Rick immediately struggles to recover, but is once again seized and restrained from behind by one of Negan's goons. My heart grows ever colder. If Rick can't stop this guy, then who can? Ever the defiant one, however, Rick doesn't just lay down.
"You leave my family alone!" he snarls.
"You should've thought about that before you started fuckin' with the natural order of things around here." Negan growls back equally menacing. "Problem is, I don't know which one of these dipshits is your kids, but I'm willing to bet, its one of these two assholes here."
Now my heart is solid ice.
Because Negan, using Lucile, first points at Carl and then myself.
"I saw them before, the other night." Negan goes on. "Can't be a coincidence that they're with you this time. It just fuckin' can't be. So, I'm gonna play another little game with you assholes." he gestures to everyone. "One of you is going to tell me which one of these bastards is Rick's kid. If you don't, I'll start shootin' people. There are quite a few here, so this little game can go on all fuckin' night until I find who I'm lookin' for. Got it?"
How?
How could this happen?
Negan doesn't seem to know about Judith. He's looking for Carl. What can I do? Only horror awaits Carl if Negan finds out which one of us he is. But if we say nothing, members of our community, our friends and family, will get killed. No matter what we lose people. There is no way to win this one, except to fight back and die trying to escape. And that's a hopeless situation anyways.
"Unless," the monster continues. "One of you wants to confess and save us the fuckin' suspense."
I won't give up Carl.
I wouldn't do that even if he kills me. But I'm suddenly worried that Carl will give himself up. He's the type to do that. In exchange for my life, his father's, and that of his friends', he'd very quickly give up his own life. And this time, Rick can't stop him. I want to look over at Carl. Gauge his reaction. But I can't. I don't want to risk anything that will give him away. There's just gotta be a way out of this! And then the idea cements in my head. There is risk involved, and yes, if it works out, I won't be in too good of condition, but its the only way I can see to protect Carl, Rick, and everyone else.
"No? Well then..."
"Wait!"
My voice pierces the air and just like that, the gaze of the entire community is on me.
"I don't want to see anyone else get killed." I murmur, a tremble in my voice. I manage to glance at Carl, seeing the stunned look in his face. "I'm sorry..." I whisper to him.
His eyes couldn't possibly get any wider.
But if he's expecting me to give him up, he's wrong.
"I'm the one you're looking for." I declare, voice quivering more now.
Carl's expression goes pale.
Even Rick is stunned to silence. Neither of them expected that. Its probably the only time I've ever stunned both Grimes men to complete silence. Carl's eyes suddenly fill with tears. Its probably the quickest I've ever seen him go from silent and stoic to emotional. The sight of him like that breaks my heart, but even more heart tugging is the words he manages to speak through his own trembling voice:
"Don't..." he pleads with me. "Don't you do it!"
As I suspected, Carl is sharp.
He already knows what I'm about to do, but I don't have a choice. I can't stop now. Negan grins sadistically. He is enjoying the pain he is forcing out of all of us like the sick bastard he is.
"I have to." I reply to Carl, closing my eyes as I resign myself to my fate. "Negan, you don't have to kill anyone. I'm Rick's kid. His son."
Negan's face is nothing short of sadistic glee.
Carl is quick to protest, "No! You'r-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Negan barks at him, waving his bat threateningly at Carl. He then turns his attention to me. "What's your name, brat?"
Brat.
I never considered a twenty year old man to be a brat, but Negan is always demeaning.
"Tanner..." I reply.
Bradly.
I should say Tanner Bradly.
When Carl and I got married, we didn't change our last names for one or the other. We both agreed that, like Glenn and Maggie had before us, doing so was an old formality and that such a change didn't mean anything about of feelings for one another. But here, now, in a sick twist of fate, my perspective of that has changed. In my mind, I'm going to die. Especially if Negan buys my story. To make my story convincing, however, I can't say Bradly. In the off chance that Negan knows Rick's last name, he'll know I'm lying, and then we'll both die. I can't have that. Furthermore, if I'm really going to die, I want Carl to know here in front of everyone, in the face of death, that I've always considered myself his. Even though he should know that by now, at least this way, he knows without a doubt.
"...Grimes." I finish. "Tanner Grimes."
Negan nods with his signature smirk.
So he did know Rick's last name.
"Well, Tanner Grimes," Negan repeats. "Its nothin' personal, I really fuckin' hate doing shit like this. Bring him up!"
My heart races.
"NO!" Carl shrieks behind me.
Every word he's spoken since this started has shattered my heart more and more. His shrill puts one more crack in my soul. I hate that he's hurting. But I won't let this happen to him. I'm very roughly dragged to my feet and forced behind Negan. To my shock and confusion, however, they don't have me kneel like they did with Tyreese. Does that mean that they have some other sadistic plan for my death? If so, I hope its over quickly. I'm not very big on the whole idea of pain and torture.
"Let 'im go!" Rick hisses.
"Like I said, Rick." Negan retorts. "Gotta get the fuckin' message through your head. We'll decide what to do with your boy when we get back to our crib. You try anything before we get outta here and, well, you'll be burying a lot more than just him."
So that's their plan.
Kidnap.
Great. They are going to drag this thing out.
"I'll be back in three days, Rick." Negan threatens. "Better fork over half your fuckin' goods by then, or this kid's history."
Rick snarls his protest, but its all in vain. There is literally nothing he can do to prevent it from happening. The Saviors, with me as their prisoner, begin to disperse and head back towards the wall. Free of his imprisonment, Carl immediately tries to dash for me, only to be recaptured by his father and restrained. The sight of Carl restrained, tears flowing from his gorgeous sapphire eyes, shatters the last bit of strength my heart has in it. I feel several warm drops of tears fall against my cheeks. I don't even try to resist them any longer. There are no goodbyes this time. No hugs. No reassuring words. I am simply dragged away as the Saviors depart, smashing through the remains of the gate. Negan personally shoves me into the large truck that is his personal ride, allowing me to fall into the backseat. He promptly slams the door shut, locking it, before climbing into the driver's seat. The Saviors all file out and quickly reclaim the vehicles they'd come in. I take one last look at Alexandria, at home...
The engines roar to life...
...and we're gone.
A/N: MAJOR cliffhanger. Bet none of you were expecting that! xD Now, I must apologize. This chapter was supposed to be done days ago, but I had something come up at home, and that slowed my writing down considerably. Nevertheless, I am back on track, and this story is only going to be getting more suspenseful from here on out! Poor Tanner, huh? Like I said. No one's safe. Not even the protagonist! hahaha You'll have to wait until next chapter to find out what happens to him though! No spoilers! :3
Now onto the reviews:
Kayden Pause: Do you love him now? xD Oh, and if you think this is as twisted as the guy gets, we're only just getting started. Negan is a whole new level of fucked up. I have to admit, writing this chapter, particularly the last portion, gave me a sick stomach for obvious reasons, but that let me know I was doing something right. Definitely last chapter was filler for this one and those to come. It gets better from here on out! Glad you're enjoying so far! Thanks :)
tentails: Well, if its any consolation, there was an attack xD Not on Hilltop though. And no, Beth will not appear. As I explained in the last story, there are a bunch of different things that could've happened to her, and I'm not convinced on which one it is, nor could I write my own reasons for her to be very convincing, so right now she is considered dead as far as my stories go. Which is sad, because I really wanted to write her, but the story comes first! Always. Also, while that is certainly an interesting idea for a twist, I don't think it would be very believable. Beth was kidnapped in Georgia, and the group is currently in the Washington D.C. area. I doubt the kidnapper would just happen to travel several states away to kidnap a girl. Could be wrong though! We'll find out in Season 5!
Again, guys, sorry for the long wait, but I hope this chapter was worth it!
Until the next one!
Later!