Daryl
Aaron and I travel through the night, trying to put as much distance between the horrific scenes in the forest and us as possible. We only travel about fifteen miles before spotting a figure traipsing through a field wearing a bright red raincoat. The both of us decide it would be best to camp on the other side of the field, observing the individual from afar before approaching him. As the sun sets the mysterious figure disappears into the trees. Aaron is convinced that we've lost him, but I'm not so sure.
"If we see him we hang back, set up the mike, watch and listen," Aaron instructs as we set up camp for the night.
"For how long?"
My traveling companion shrugs, "Until we know. We have to know. Both of us this time, Daryl."
"You've sent people away before?" I question, taking a bite out of a piece of jerky I packed for the trip.
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
"It was early on. It was three people, two men, and a woman. Davidson was their leader. Smart as hell, strong. I thought they'd work out. They didn't. I brought them in and I had to see them out. So, Aiden, Nicholas, and me we uh, drove them out far. We gave them a days worth of food and water and left them," Aaron's face falls as he explains what happened, his eyes showing just how much the event hurt him and still weighs on his conscious.
"They just went?"
Aaron glances down at the small fire we built, poking at it with a stick laying on the ground. He doesn't re-make eye contact as he answers me. "We had their guns. We had all the guns. I can't make that kind of mistake again."
I nod slowly, understanding where he's going with this. "That's why you wanted to leave the girl?"
"I don't want you to have to turn her out."
"That ain't gonna happen," I answer, getting up off the ground and throwing the fatty part of the dried meat into the fire. My temper flares, wanting me to lash out at Aaron for his mistrust of my judgment, but I don't. It's not his fault. Blaire isn't the kind of people that Aaron usually looks for. "Blaire's makin' friends. She's starting to become part of the community. She'll be fine."
The next morning Aaron and I spot our target. Lifting the binoculars to my eyes, I watch as the figure walks back and forth between the field and the forest. He never comes back with anyone else nor do I spot anyone else in the hours spent observing the individual. Aaron stands next to me, headphones on, the noise-enhancing device held in his hands. Besides some incoherent mumbling, the man does not talk. At one point he bends down, rubbing a plant substance over his face.
"What's he doing?" Aaron questions, sliding the headphones down around his neck.
"Wild leeks," I explain, shoving the binoculars back into my pack. We aren't going to find out much more about this individual just standing around and observing him. I'm ready to make contact. "Son of a bitch knows about how to keep mosquitos away. Come on."
I take off across the field, Aaron shouting out after me. The man in the red poncho hears, his head turning in our direction. I freeze, trying to crouch down in the overgrown grass, but it's too late. The man has taken off into the forest. Cursing under my breath, I shoot up, beginning to run after him. Aaron is at my heels. We chase him through the woods for what feels like hours, eventually moving to driving up and down the strips of highway running parallel to the forest. It seems as if the man has evaded us. Although Aaron wants to give up and head back towards Alexandria, I have a good feeling about this individual and want to keep looking. Per usual, Aaron gives in, driving his beat-up red car beside my bike. He only pulls off the road as we approach a fenced in area, food trucks pulled up to loading docks. The both of us stop, walking towards the gate. There are only a few walkers wandering around inside the enclosure. Those trucks would be easy to take and I'm sure they're full of food that Alexandria could most definitely use.
"We checked the forest. We checked the roads. We can't find him. Sometimes they slip away. It happens. But, you don't come across something like this every day."
"Home is fifty miles back. It's time to go. You saw the other day. There are bad people out here."
We know this place is here. We could keep tracking the man in the poncho. Once we find him we could circle back and collect these trucks. Hell, he'd be an extra person to help drive. Besides, if we were able to find him, the bad people out here probably can too. He could end up like that woman tied to the tree if we give up. "That's why we ought to keep lookin' for the good ones."
"We need more people," Aaron responds, turning to look at me, pleading with his eyes, "and we'll find them, but when we do, we'll need to feed them."Letting out a sigh, I pull my knife out of the holster, tapping it on the fence a few times, getting the attention of the walkers within. As one stumbles over, I stab it in the head through the fence. "All right."
Once Aaron and I clear all the walkers, he pulls the fence open. Although I find it strange that there isn't some kind of chain or padlock, I don't mention it. It wouldn't do any good. Aaron wants what's in those trucks and he's prepared to gather it by himself if need be. This isn't something that is up for discussion anymore. I've agreed to go along with this plan and now I need to stick with that. There are only so many times we can disagree before he starts bringing his partner out here again instead of me. Together we walk up the ramp to the loading dock. As Aaron heads to one end, I wander in the other direction. The trucks look completely untouched, a thin layer of dust covering the white exterior. Something still feels off. There are cans tied to the mirrors and corners of the vehicles. They look new, the twine holding them up not even partially worn through. People have been here recently. Maybe those people from the woods.
"Huh," I turn around just in time to see Aaron squatting down, digging the screwdriver out of his backpack. "Wasn't sure I'd ever see one of these."
Aaron stands back up, holding an Alaskan license place. He smiles at me, shoving it back into his bag. For someone who was so worried about needing to get back to Alexandria, he sure is taking his sweet time checking these trucks for supplies. Shaking my head, I turn back around, continuing in the opposite direction of my traveling companion.
"Hey, listen. I don't like giving up either, but the guy is in a red poncho. You can see him from a mile away. We've gone a lot of miles here. No sign of him," Aaron states, trying once again to justify his side of things. "If we come away with a trailer full of cans I'd say that's a good trip."
Nodding, I bend down, curling my fingers around the rusted handle of the back of the truck closest to me, "Here we go."
The door flies open, revealing a trailer full of walkers. As they begin to pour out onto the dock the back of the other trucks spring open. All are filled with the dead. Aaron and I take off back down the ramp, set on getting to the gate. I look around, trying to find a direct path, but the area is covered. My heart hammers against my ribs as I stab a few of the walkers in the head, working on forcing my way through without getting bit.
"Over here!" Aaron calls out as he slips underneath the nearest truck.
Dropping to my knees I crawl under, breathing heavy as Aaron glances at me. There is a look of pure terror on his face as he realizes that we might not make it out of this alive. Glancing around, I spot a chain lying on the ground by my head. As walkers begin to make their way under the truck, I grab hold of it, slipping out the other side. Taking a deep breath I twist the end of the chain around my hand, swinging it over my head, bringing it down and through the heads of three walkers moving my way. Aaron has joined me now, his knife raised up by his head. A walker grabs hold of his backpack and he lets out a yelp, trying to twist around to stab it. Running forward, I slide my knife through its skull, pulling it out quickly as I continue through the crowd, Aaron on my heels. We fight our way through the group.
"Come on!" Aaron calls, hurrying towards a car sitting in the middle of the parking lot.
I rip the driver side door open, shutting it quickly as a wall of walkers piles up against the metal. Aaron manages to get into the car as well, struggling with a head that's gotten caught in his door. I keep my fingers curled around my knife, ready to fight off any that may try to get in before Aaron is able to shut the door fully. Once the walker's head has fallen to the pavement, my companion slams the door, falling back into his seat with a sigh. We sit quietly, each trying to catch our breath.
"The glass will hold for a while, right?" Aaron questions, staring at the walkers that have now surrounded the car.
I nod, beginning to look around for anything we can use to fight our way out or secure the car. I'm not going out without a fight. "Maybe. Maybe we can make it so they can't see us. In a couple hours something'll come by. They'll follow it out. There's gotta be somethin' in here we can use to block the view." I twist around, leaning into the back so I can slide my knife into the fabric of the seats. "We can cut up these."
When Aaron doesn't follow suit, I turn around. He's holding a note in his hand. As I read over it, I slump back into the driver seat. We don't have time to sit and wait this out. Across the crumbled up paper, written in blood is 'Trap. Bad people coming. Don't stay.'
Panic begins to grip me. Once again I twist around, trying to find anything that could be useful. There's nothing in this damn car. Frustrated, I turn back around, stabbing my knife into the dashboard. All this, all the fighting, all the loss and this is how it's all going to end. Despite the circumstances, I laugh.
"What?"
"I came out here to not feel all closed up back there. Even now, this still feels more like me than back in them houses. That's pretty messed up, huh?"
"You were trying," Aaron offers.
I nod, "I had to."
"No, you didn't. Listen, I saw you with your group out on the road. Then you went off on your own by the barn. The storm hit and you led your people to safety. That was it. I knew I had to bring your people back." Aaron glances over at me, frowning a little. "You were right. We should have kept looking for that guy in the poncho. I shouldn't have given up. You didn't."
Letting out a sigh, I dig into my pocket, pulling out the package of cigarettes Carol returned to me before Aaron and I left. As I slide one out, I notice black writing running the length of the paper. The words 'stay safe' stare up at me. Shaking my head I grin, letting the fire from my lighter lick the end of the cigarette. That damn girl. She's making it impossible to get away from her, even all the way out here. "I'll go."
"Aaron raises an eyebrow.
"I'll lead them out. You make a break for the fence."
"No. No. No." Aaron protests. "This way my fault."
"It wasn't a question," I respond taking a drag off the cigarette before moving it away from my lips, once again looking at the small black letters written on it, "and this ain't your decision. It ain't nobody's fault. Just let me finish my smoke first."
"No." Aaron insists. "You don't draw them away. We fight. We go for the fence. We do it together. All right? Whether we make it or not, we do it together. We have to."
Placing the cigarette back to my lips I breathe in and out for a little, just staring at Aaron. I didn't think he had the balls. Maybe he isn't as much of a pansy as I originally thought. Taking one last drag off my smoke I nod, chewing on my bottom lip. "All right. You ready?"
"Yeah," Aaron responds, lifting his knife out in front of him.
Grabbing my weapon back out of the dashboard, I throw my backpack over my shoulder. We can do this. We'll make it back to the gate. We're going to be home before dinner and I'll have one hell of a story to tell Blaire tonight over drinks. "We'll go on three. One." I curl my fingers around the door handle, taking a deep breath. "Two."
As I go to say three, the head of a walker is smashed against Aaron's window, the door being pulled open. A figure dressed in a jacket, wielding a stick motions for us to exit the vehicle as he fights off a few more of the walkers that have begun to re-gather. Aaron and I spill out of the car, fighting to get to the exit. My companion reaches the gate first, his fingers curling around the links, ready to push it shut as soon as the rest of us are through. The mysterious stranger is a few paces behind me, fighting off the walkers with his stick.
"Come on!" I call out as I reach the other side of the gate. "Let's go!"
The man runs forward, slipping through the exit just as Aaron slams the gate shut. Leaning forward I place my hands on my knees, working to catch my breath as I watch the walkers gather against the fence.
"That was...oh," Aaron chuckles, placing his hands on his head as he tries to regain his breath. "Thank you."
The stranger nods, taking out a cloth and beginning to rub the brains off the end of his stick.
"I'm Aaron. This is Daryl," Aaron says once he's able to talk normally again.
"Morgan," the man offers.
"Why?" I demand. For all we know this guy could be with the people who set this trap.
"Why?" Morgan responds, "Because all life is precious, Daryl." The man smiles at me, tapping his stick against the concrete.
"Whoever set that trap, they're coming back. But, I have good news," Aaron says, motioning between the two of us, "we do. We have a community not too far from here. Walls, electricity, it's safe. Uh, if you'd like to come join us."
Morgan smiles, pulling out a folded up map. "I thank you, but I'm on my way somewhere. Fact is, I'm lost, so – " the man hands the map over to me – "if you could tell me where we are."
I unfold the map, eyes shifting from the paper back up to Morgan. In the bottom corner is Rick's name.
Blaire
"The person staring back at me in the mirror isn't someone I recognize anymore. The mirror person's hair is too done up, the make-up caked too heavily over her skin. How did I get to this point? I thought coming to California would have changed things. I think I'm closer to losing it here than I ever was in Baltimore. This is my third job in ten months and it isn't any better than the others. The job description said bartender, not glorified stripper. The boss claims serving topless and giving the clientele lap dances on request helps keep business up. He's just a misogynist pig.
"Blaire, you're expected on the floor." A voice from the other side of the bathroom door sounds.
"Okay," I reply in a weak voice, never taking my eyes off of the woman in the mirror. I wonder what my mom would say if she saw me now.
"Blaire, now," the voice says, a fist pounding against the thin wooden door.
"I just need a second.
"We don't have a second. Now, Blaire!"
The sounds of breaking glass and yelling pull me from my nap. According to Deanna, Alexandria is a relatively quiet community. She was proud to tell me that there hadn't been any major disagreements since very early on when the group was trying to decide who would be in charge. The commotion outside sounds like much more than a minor disagreement. Getting off the couch, I hurry upstairs, grab the gun I kept when I arrived and tuck it into the back of my pants before running outside.
At the top of the street, a small crowd has gathered around two men wrestling each other. Running forward, I quickly recognize Rick and Pete. They're throwing punches as a blonde woman pleads with them to stop. What the hell is happening? How did things escalate this quickly? Everyone standing around wears the same confused and shocked expressions, obviously not knowing anything more than I do. I don't know Rick or Pete all that well, but this kind of behavior seems out of character for both men. Spotting Carol on the other side of the street I work my way over to her, hoping that she'll know something.
"What the hell is going on?" I question once I reach Carol's frowns, pulling a boy behind her, shielding him from the scene, "Pete was hitting his wife. I think Rick may have confronted him about it."
Before I can say more, Pete rolls over, his fists making contact with Rick's face over and over. The blonde runs forward, pleading with Alexandria's doctor to stop. Pete lifts his hand, slapping her. As the woman falls, Rosita runs over, helping her get away from the fighting men. The brawl continues as more people gather out in the street. No one here knows what to do about the confrontation. Things like this don't happen in this community.
Carl rushes forward, tugging at his dad's shirt, trying to break the two adults apart, "Dad, get off!"
From what I've gathered from Maggie, Deanna is still uncertain about how Rick is integrating into Alexandria. She thought giving him a position of power would help him feel like he had some kind of say in things. This fight isn't going to do anything but hurt Rick. He needs to come to his senses.
As Carl gets pushed down, Deanna arrives, stopping just outside of the group that has gathered, "Stop it! Stop it right now."
Rick puts Pete into a headlock, sitting up on his knees to face Deanna. In his free hand is a gun, "Or what? You gonna kick me out?"
"Put the gun down, Rick," Deanna responds, keeping her tone even. I can tell by her body language that she's nervous.
Reaching around, I begin to un-tuck my shirt, preparing to pull out my gun if need be. Carol grabs hold of my wrist, shaking her head, "That will only make things worse. You keep that hidden unless you absolutely have to use it."
"You still don't get it. None of you do!" Rick calls out, waving his gun around as blood slides down his face. He looks like a madman. "We know what needs to be done and we do it. We're the ones who live. You, you just sit and plan and hesitate. You pretend like you know when you don't. You wish things weren't what they are. Well, you wanna live? You want this place to stay standing? Your way of doing things is done. Things don't get better because you...you want them to. Starting right now, we have to live in the real world. We have to control who lives here."
Deanna frowns, shaking her head a little, "That's never been more clear to me than it is right now."
Rick scoffs, pointing the gun towards his chest, "Me? Me? You – " The man on the ground laughs " – you mean me? Your ways gonna destroy this place. It's gonna get people killed. It's already gotten people killed. And I'm not gonna stand by and just let it happen. If you don't fight, you die. I'm not gonna stand by – "
Out of nowhere, Michonne punches Rick in the temple, causing him to crumble to the ground. Once she's gathered his gun and Pete has been escorted to the infirmary, Deanna steps forward. "I want him patched up and then put in the unfinished townhomes. I'll need him under constant watch. I will deal with Pete."
"Go help Michonne with Rick, I'm going to make sure Jessie is alright," Carol instructs before leading the young boy who has been cowering behind her through the whole ordeal towards the blonde woman who was knocked away in the fight.
Walking forward, I join the circle of individuals that has gathered around Rick and Michonne. Amongst them are Glenn, Maggie, Carl, and a girl I've never seen before. Glenn helps Michonne get Rick to his feet, the two balancing the brunette man between them.
"Michonne and I will get Rick to the infirmary and then move him to one of the unfinished townhomes," Glenn announces as the two start walking forward slowly.
"I should go try to talk Deanna out of whatever rash decision she's going to want to make," Maggie announces before hurrying towards the main house.
Carl and the other girl begin to follow Michonne and Glenn, leaving me to stand in the middle of the street not really knowing what to do. As I go to head back to my house, Michonne stops, glancing back at me over her shoulder, "Judith is still at Rick's house, can you watch her?"
Nodding, I begin to head down the street towards the house where Rick is staying. Even if it is just a small part to play, I'm glad I have something to do. I want to make it known that I stand with Rick's group. Sure, Rick could have delivered his message in a better way, but I can't say I don't agree with what he said. Two people were lost on the last supply run and another was injured because of a lack of training on Alexandria's part. The people living inside these walls have no idea what it's like outside.
"Deanna wants to have a meeting to discuss my dad staying," Carl announces later that night as he walks through the front door. I spent most of the day alone with Judith, making sure she didn't choke on any of the toys they have for her. She's a content little girl all things considered.
"When?" I question, putting the book I've been reading down on the coffee table. Judith went down about an hour ago and it's been rather boring just sitting around. "Where is he now?"
"Deanna is having him stay in the unfurnished place for the night. Michonne is saying there. I wanted to be there when he woke up, but she sent me here to relieve you of Judith."
"I don't mind staying, she's asleep anyway," I answer as Carl takes a seat on the couch next to me. He looks worn down and frustrated.
"I don't need a babysitter. I can take care of my sister without you."
I frown a little, knowing the boy's words are coming from a place of aggravation and distrust. "I'm not here to babysit you. I also have no doubt that you can take care of Judith, but Michonne asked me to stay until she got back. I need your group to like me and see that I can be a team player. We can pretend like I'm not here though if you'd like."
"Why are you trying to fit in?"
"Because I can tell that your dad has got a strong group of people standing behind him. I can see that all of you really understand the world." I answer as Carl stares over at me. "I just don't want to be on the wrong side of things when the shit hits the fan."
"You have a gun," Carl announces after a few moments of silence.
"How do you know that?" I question. Although I wanted to, I hadn't pulled it out during the confrontation in the street. I don't carry the thing around with me on a daily basis, either. There's no way for Carl to know I have a gun in my home unless Daryl or Carol told him.
"I saw you reach for it today while my dad and Pete were fighting. Does anyone else know you have it? Why didn't you just turn it in when you first showed up?"
"I kept it out of habit. I've not been without a gun for a long time. Besides, I thought maybe I'd need it one day. It's better to have one and not need it then not have one at all. Deanna is stupid for not letting people carry within the walls. As for anyone else knowing, it's just Carol, Daryl, and now you."
Carl seems satisfied with this answer, sinking back against the couch arm, "My dad doesn't think you can hold your own."
I smirk over at Rick's son, "Not too many people do. That's how I've survived so long."
"By having people underestimate you?"
"Nodding, I pick my book back up, "Yup. In this world being underestimated gets you further than this tough guy act you've got going on."
"What if it's not an act?" Carl questions as Judith begins to cry.
"No one's that tough, Carl. Now, go check on your sister."
Carl gets about halfway to the stairs before he turns and looks at me once again, "Blaire, at this meeting, whose side are you going to be on?"
"Everything your dad said out there today is the truth, Carl. I'm going to stand with Rick."
I smile at the boy, "Even if it means I get kicked out too."
Everyone in Rick's group is on edge. Maggie spent most of last night and this morning with Deanna, trying to convince her that the fight in the street isn't who Rick is. Carol went to Rick's to try and coach him on what to say tonight at the gathering. Abraham, Rosita, and Tara have all started packing in case Rick is asked to leave. Even though Deanna will probably let the rest of the group stay, no one will. If Rick is kicked out the rest go with him. After I left Judith with Carl, Rick, and Michonne I go back home and pack up a few of my things. These people are my group now. If they go, I go.
As the day grows darker everyone gathers in Deanna's backyard. Chairs have been set up around a fire pit. Maggie, Deanna, and Deanna's husband stand at the top of the semi-circle of seats, watching as people arrive.
"Blaire, can I talk with you?" Deanna questions shortly after I've settled into a chair near the back.
Nodding, I get up, walking forwards to where Deanna is standing next to the fire.
"I've noticed that you've started to fit in with the people around here. You took the initiative and jumped right on guard duty. I like that trait in people." Deanna starts. "I think you'll make a fantastic addition to our community here at Alexandria."
"Thanks," I answer back with a smile. Despite everything that has happened or could happen it still feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I've been accepted.
"Also, I've come up with a job for you. I'd like you to be the town mechanic. Cars go out here and there and we don't have anyone who knows how to fix them. You could work out of your garage. I've also decided that in the event a group needs an extra person to go out with them, you will fill the spot. Does that sound alright to you?" Deanna continues on with a smile.
"Of course. Thank you," I respond before pulling the women into a hug and walking back to my seat. Despite my incompetent boss and the mild sexual harassment that came with being a female in a male-dominated field, I really did enjoy my time as an auto mechanic. Being able to use those skills, no matter how infrequently, will be nice.
Shortly after I've re-taken my seat, Deanna clears her throat, stepping forwards towards the fire, "We're going to start."
"Can we wait?" Maggie questions from her spot by Deanna's husband. "There's still people comin', Glenn, Rick."
Deanna frowns, "We're going to start. It's already dark. We're gonna talk about what happened; not the fight, not what precipitated it. We're dealing with that. We're gonna talk about one of our constables, Rick Grimes. We're going to talk about how he had a pistol he stole from the armory, about how he pointed it at people. And we're going to talk about what he said. I was hoping he'd be here."
"Hes said he's coming," Michonne answers from a seat on the opposite side of the courtyard.
"I'm sure he'll be here and I'm sure we can work this all out," Carol adds on.
"Well," Deanna looks over the group of people who have gathered. Rick's group takes up most of the seats. Those who originally started in Alexandria are sparse, the majority of them being individuals who witnessed the confrontation. "While we wait for Rick to join us, does anyone have anything they'd like to say?"
Michonne is the first to stand. She turns and addresses the crowd, "Rick just wants his family to live. Who he is, is who you're gonna be - " Michonne turns to look at Deanna, " – if you're lucky."
Clearing my throat, I stand. Deanna might have offered me a permanent place here, but she needs to know where my loyalties lie. "Everything Rick said was the truth. Sure, he could've delivered it better, but he's right. We can't pretend that just because we're behind these walls, we're all safe. There are bad people out there who would try and take this place. Your people need to know how to protect themselves, how to do what has to be done. I get it, ya know, that isn't always easy. But it's better to come to terms with it all and be prepared before it's too late."
As Deanna goes to say something, Carol stands, cutting her off, "Rick Grimes saved my life out there. There are terrifying people out there and he rescued me from them. People like me, people like us, need people like him. I know what happened last night was scary, and I'm sure he's sorry for that, but maybe we should listen to what he's saying."
Next is Abraham. He pulls himself out of his seat, placing his foot on the chair and leaning over, looking out at the others as he talks, "Simply put, there is a vast ocean of shit that people don't know shit about. Rick knows every fine grain of said shit and then some."
This just seems to confuse people, a whisper going up among the individuals from Alexandria. In an attempt to reign everyone back in and keep the conversation on topic, Maggie steps forward, her face illuminated by the fire. "My father respected Rick Grimes. Rick is a father, too. He's a man with a good heart who feels the things he does, the things he has to do. And all of us who were together before this place, no matter when we found each other, we're family now. Rick started that, and you won't stop it. You can't and you don't want to. This community, you people, that family...you wanna be a part of it too."
Deanna steps forward, glancing around at the group around the fire, "Before we hear from anyone else, I uh, I would like to share something in the spirit of transparency. Father Gabriel came to see me the day before yesterday and he said our new arrivals can't be trusted, that they were dangerous, that they would put themselves before this community. And not one day later, Rick seemed to demonstrate all the things Father Gabriel said. I had hoped Gabriel would be here tonight."
"I don't see him here, Deanna. So you're just saying what someone said. Did you tape him?" The blonde women who got hit during the fight questions, causing those in the crowd to begin to whisper again.
"He's not here," Maggie confirms.
Deanna sets her jaw, turning her gaze to Maggie, "Neither is Rick."
"Excuse me," Maggie answers back, obviously upset by Deanna's comment.
This whole meeting has turned into a he said, she said situation. We aren't going to get anywhere if Rick doesn't show up soon to defend his actions. Beating up a wife beater is one thing, waving a gun around is another. Without Rick's side of things, we're all going to sit here at each other's throats without any resolution.
"I just want to keep my family safe," a man sitting towards the front of the group announces. "You know? I don't even know what that means anymore, but if it means we've got to get rid of –"
He's cut off as a dead one is thrown down in the aisle between the chairs. Rick is once again covered in blood, breathing heavily. A few people get up and move away from the scene, others stare on in shock.
"There wasn't a guard on the gate. It was open," Rick announces.
"I asked Gabriel to close it," another member of the Alexandria community admits.
Deanna turns to him, fire in her eyes, "Go."
"I didn't bring it in," Rick continues on, addressing those gathered. "It got in on its own. They always will, the dead and the living, because we're in here. And the ones out there, they'll hunt us. They'll try to kill us, but we'll kill them. We'll survive. I'll show you how. You know, I was thinkin', I was thinkin', how many of you do I have to kill to save your lives. But, I'm not gonna do that. You're gonna change. I'm not sorry for what I said last night. I'm sorry for not saying it sooner. You're not ready, but you have to be, right now, you have to be. Luck runs out."
"You're not one of us!" In the entryway to Deanna's backyard stands Pete, a knife held in one hand. I brought my gun to the meeting just in case and now, as Pete continues towards Rick, I pull it out, ready to use it if I need to.
Deanna's husband steps forward, holding his hands out in front of him, "Pete, you don't wanna do this."
"Get away from me, Reg," Pete warns, waving the knife in front of him.
"Pete, just stop," Reg continues.
"Get away," Pete shoves Reg backward, the knife sliding over the older man's throat.
Reg stumbles backward into Deanna's arms, blood spilling from his neck. Deanna is crying, begging for her husband to be all right, for someone to do something. As Pete continues to yell, waving the knife around in front of him, Abraham gets up, slamming the doctor against the ground. Although a few people have moved over to help Reg, it's too late. I can tell from the vacant expression in his eyes that he's dead.
Deanna is shaking, tears still streaming down her face as she clutches her dead husband to her chest. Looking up, she makes eye contact with Rick, who has his gun drawn. "Rick, do it."
In one fluid motion, Rick turns, a single bullet traveling through the barrel of his gun and into Pete's skull. As the realization of what has just happened washes over the crowd, I glance at the entryway to the yard. In it stand Daryl, Aaron, and a man who looks like his ideas of the world have just been shattered.
Daryl
Sitting out by the pond, I place a cigarette between my lips as I think over the scene I walked in on. How did things escalate? What led to all those people being gathered in Deanna's garden? Rick disappeared with Morgan, making it impossible for me to get my questions answered.
"You look like shit," a voice behind me sounds.
"Been a rough couple 'o' days."
"Wanna drink about it?" Blaire questions, shaking the bottle of alcohol in her hand, offering me the other free one.
Shrugging, I curl my fingers around the girl's wrist, letting her help me up before we head up the street towards her house. Once inside we collapse on the couch, the bottle being passed back and forth between us as I explain the events of Aaron and my mission.
"Daryl," Blaire breaks the silence after a long pause, turning her head to look at me as she hands the bottle of rum over. "I'm glad you made it back. If Aaron had walked back through that gate and said you'd died, I would've left."
I take a long drink from the bottle, thinking over her words. I wonder if Blaire truly means what she's saying or if it's just the alcohol talking. The last time we said anything to each other it was out of anger. She has no reason to be saying what she is. "Why?"
"I respect Aaron, but I wouldn't have been able to be here and look him in the eyes every day and know that he was the reason you died. He didn't want me here in the first place. He was content with leaving me behind. I wouldn't be in Alexandria if it weren't for you. I'm not staying if you stop being here."
I smirk at Blaire, screwing the lid back on the now empty alcohol bottle before placing it on the ground by my feet. "You say some pretty dumb shit when you're drunk, smart – ass. I ain't that important to you. If I go, you'll find some reason or another to stay. You're part of the family now, no ones just gonna let you wander off. Especially over me."
Blaire scrunches up her nose, "You keep telling yourself that, Daryl Dixon. You're important to me now, even if you don't want to be."
"That why you wrote on all my smokes?" I question.
"Maybe," Blaire answers beginning to twist a strand of her hair around her finger, refusing to make eye contact with me.
"How'd you do that anyway?"
"You slept on my couch. I don't sleep. I had hours of opportunity." Blaire drops her gaze, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth. She begins to fidget, her fingers running over the couch again and again. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have."
Reaching forward, I place my hand over Blaire's. Big grey eyes, slightly bloodshot from the alcohol, blink up at me. Once again, I'm drawn to the thin scar running over the bridge of the brunette's nose. "I ain't upset. It's kinda nice knowin' someone cares."
Blaire smiles, letting out the breath she's been holding, "Deanna officially welcomed me to Alexandria tonight."
Deanna saw what I did in Blaire. That feeling I had the day Aaron and I found her in the woods was right. Something about Blaire drew me in and keeps me coming back no matter how hard I try and stay away. A small voice starts to sound in my head, telling me I shouldn't feel this way, but I shut it down as Blaire continues on.
"Yeah. She gave me a job too. I'm Alexandria's mechanic."
"Well - " I answer back, scooting down on the couch so that my head is resting on the armrest. " – my bike still needs a little work. Why don't you help me with it in the morning, mechanic."
Blaire smirks at me, lifting my legs up so that she can get off the couch, "Are you sleeping here tonight?"
"Here's just as good as anywhere else," I answer before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep. My dreams are haunted by images of Beth.
I'm awoken by the sounds of humming and the smells of food cooking. Rubbing my eyes, I stretch my sore limbs, pushing back the blanket that is now lying over my body. Blaire must have laid it out last night after I fell asleep.
"Good morning, sleepy head," Blaire says with a smile as she places a plate of food down on the table in front of me.
Yawning, I sit up, shoving a piece of what looks like spam into my mouth, "What time is it?"
Blaire shrugs, joining me on the couch, "Probably around eleven. The stove clock went out last time we lost power. I didn't bother fixing it."
"Why?"
"Time was created to make sure people got places when they were supposed to. We've got nowhere to be, nothing to do, but stay alive. I didn't see the point in having the clock above the stove remind me of that over and over again."
I glance over at Blaire, watching as she takes a bite of her breakfast, chewing it slowly. I wonder when she came up with all these ideas she has, all these deep answers to questions she didn't even know would be asked. Eventually, I decide that that's just who Blaire is. There are no simple answers with her. Everything has a meaning. Blaire, much like others I've traveled with over the course of the last few years, just sees the world differently than the rest of us. "You still wanna work on the bike today?"
Blaire nods, setting her empty plate on the table in front of us as Duke crawls onto her lap. "I don't have any tools or anything, though."
"We got 'em in the shed. Deanna wanted 'em to be open to everyone," I answer back.
"I need to get dressed."
Getting up I head towards the door. "I'll meet ya at Rick's."
Blaire waves a hand over her shoulder as she climbs the stairs, letting me know she understands. For a few seconds, I stand in the doorway, watching as she reaches the second floor and disappears around the corner. I only turn away when the voice inside my head begins to whirl into existence. Every fiber of my being is telling me that Blaire is a good person and that I should let her in. Yet, my brain seems to have gotten a different message, urging me to push her away.
"So what exactly is wrong with it?" Blaire walks up the street, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.
"Just needs tuning up. That scouting trip was the first time it was out." I answer, pulling the rag out of my back pocket and wiping the sweat from my forehead.
Blaire nods, sitting down on the curb beside my bike. She picks up a wrench, passing it back and forth between her hands. "Are Aaron and you still going to go out looking for people? I mean, after what happened this last time?"
"Ain't no reason not to. Those traps mean we gotta work harder to find the good ones 'fore those pricks do."
"Do you think Deanna is going to want to bring anyone else in after what happened with Pete?"
I shrug, motioning for Blaire to give me the wrench she's playing with. I don't really need her help with the bike, but I like talking to her. She's curious about everything and genuinely wants to hear the answer given. Blaire doesn't let me get away with easy answers either. It's frustrating at times, but I'm sure it's what I need. After Beth I sorta shut down, Blaire makes me want to talk again.
"Would you?" Blaire blinks up at me, her gaze telling me that she isn't going to accept another shrug.
"We need all the people we can get. This place is big 'n' there's lots of jobs to do. Reg 'n' Deanna wanted to expand. Can't do that without people."
"Or do you just like being able to get out of here once in a while?" Blaire smiles, her nose crinkled up.
"Maybe," I answer back, squatting down next to the bike as Rick walks down the steps towards the two of us. I talked to him a little before Blaire showed up. Rick knows Morgan from before. I just wanted to make sure he was a good guy. "So, is he okay with it?"
"Due to what happened with Pete, Deanna didn't want Morgan just walking around Alexandria. They'd put him up in one of the half-finished homes towards the front, locking him in at night.
"It was pretty much his idea. He gets it," Rick answers stopping next to where Blaire is sitting on the curb.
"It's got a bed 'n' a bath, but it's still a cage, ya know?"
"He gets it," Rick says again. "He told me what happened out there with the trucks."
I stand up, wiping my hands on my rag, "He tell you about those guys he meet?" I motion to my forehead where the letters had been drawn on the others. "The W's?"
"Like the walker we saw, yeah."
"Those are the same people who came after my camp. The ones who gave me this – " Blaire runs her fingers over the scar that cuts across her face. " – They're stealthy, quiet. They don't mind waiting for the right moment."
Rick nods at the brunette's words, "We need more watchpoints. I'm gonna tell Deanna we don't need to go looking for people anymore."
I freeze, glancing at Rick. We need people, now more than ever. If those guys are as bad as Blaire has been saying, it's important to bring the good people to safety. If the W's attack Alexandria, we don't have enough people trained to fight them off. As I try to think of a way to argue my case, I bring my thumb between my lips, teeth working on biting down the already too short nail.
"You feel different about it?" Rick questions, hand dropping to where his gun should be.
I nod back, "Yeah, I do."
"Well, people out there, they gotta take care of themselves. Just like us."
I lower my gaze, eyes meeting Blaire's. The corners of her lips are pulled down in a slight frown.
"I'm gonna get him out. Shouldn't leave him in there any longer than we have to," Rick says before heading up the street.
Blaire stands up, narrowing her eyes at me, "You should've stood up for yourself."
I shake my head, squatting back down beside my bike, "Ain't worth it."