Chapter 33

"Fuck! This lug nut is on here tight," Shawn stressed as he fought to turn the lug wrench in his fists. Sweat poured down his forehead and Daryl felt the strain as much as Shawn did just by watching him.

"Gimme that," Daryl tapped Shawn's shoulder. The dark man let go of the wrench abruptly and fell back, take deep breaths.

"Don't give yourself a fucking heart attack," Alan kidded, but held out a hand to help him to his feet. Daryl took his place, trying to work the lug wrench in a circular motion.

"I know I've been packing on a few pounds, but that shit is like Thor's hammer. It's not moving anywhere," Shawn wiped his face with his shirt.

"And no damn wonder," Daryl said, ripping the lug wrench off of the lug. "The damn thing is rusted so bad, it's like it's glued on here. I thought you guys were s'posed to keep these things in workin' condition?"

"We do, but I guess this one got overlooked." Alan squatted down by Daryl and rubbed a finger on the lug. Rusty flakes fell off and stained his skin.

"Well, what now?" Shawn breathed.

"Hey, what's the fucking hold up? You pansy motherfuckers never change a tire before?" A long haired young man strode up, trying to look more important than he was.

"We're getting it, Jared. Just having difficulty with a nut. It's rusted on pretty good."

"Put some fucking muscle into it, hillbilly," Jared spoke down to Daryl and kicked his foot. "Use that crazy ass redneck strength, or do you need a needle for that shit?"

"Fuck off, would ya?" Alan straightened, blocking Daryl from Jared. "We'll have it changed and ready to go in ten minutes. If not, I'll let you have my dinner portions tonight. Deal?"

"Yeah, all right." Jared huffed at him. He snorted and spat on the road next to Alan's feet. He backed off, shooting Daryl one last dirty look.

Daryl shook his head and grabbed a combination wrench out of the tool box by the tire. He slammed it down on the lug nug, giving it a few good raps to hopefully loosen it some and also get his frustration out. If he didn't let out his pent up anger soon, he was worried he'd unleash it in the worse possible way. Imagining the nut was Jared's face helped some.

"Okay, that's enough," Alan told him, holding the lug wrench next to Daryl's head. Daryl dropped the combination wrench back in the tool box with a clatter, and yanked the other out of Alan's hand, shoving it onto the lug nut again.

"Thanks," Daryl said and Alan knew he meant for sticking up for him.

"No problem, but if you don't get that nut off soon, I'll be going to bed hungry tonight."

Daryl tugged at the wrench, trying not to use too much strength to avoid stripping the nut. It started to move a little, but not as much as he was wanting. He stood up and put his foot onto it, using the strength of his legs to bump it down. Finally, it gave way and he was able to unscrew it off the whole way.

"Thank you, Jesus," Shawn expressed, his hands in the air. He dropped down by Daryl and helped him finish, jacking the truck up and pulling the tire off.

"Hey! Hey!"

A distant voice had everyone to their feet, guns and knives at the ready. They took a step back and converged on the road, looking around for the person of which the voice was coming from. Daryl grabbed up the lug wrench again at the sound of the shout. He wasn't entirely trustworthy of a gun or knife by Gavin's standards just yet.

"Help me!" They voice called more loudly and a head appeared over the hill in front of them. He screamed again and waved his arms. "They're after me!"

"Hold it right there!" Gavin yelled. Everyone had their weapons aimed at the man, but he kept running toward them.

"They're alive! They're coming!" The man's voice was pure terror, and he stumbled and fell as he came over the hill. He scrambled to his feet again, even as Gavin, Jared, and David advanced on him with their weapons drawn.

"I said stop!" Gavin yelled at the distressed man once more, but he was too horrorstruck to hear or listen. Gavin pulled the trigger, hitting the guy square in the chest.

The man fell hard into the asphalt face first, but he was still alive. He reached a weak hand out and started to drag himself forward, kicking at the road underneath him.

"Please," he whimpered, tears streaming down his dirty face. "Don't let them get me. I don't want to be one of them."

"One of the dead?" Jared sneered at him. "You'll be one soon enough."

"No!" He wailed, holding up a hand. "They're demons. They're alive! I can't be one of them!"

"Man, this guy is batshit crazy," David said. "What the fuck are you on?"

"They spoke to me. They were speaking to each other! Don't let them near you! They'll take your souls!"

"Gavin, waste this guy." David shook his head and Gavin pulled the trigger again. This time, his bullet met the man in the head and he finally lay silent.

"What the fuck was that?" Shawn asked Alan and Daryl as they watched the three men pick through the fallen one's pockets.

"Hell if I know, but he seemed pretty spooked," Alan answered. "Quick, let's get this tire on so we can get out of here. I'm kind of freaked out myself."

"Yeah, no kidding," Shawn agreed. "I didn't sign up for no freaky shit."

"Help us out, Dixon," Alan called, but Daryl couldn't tear his eyes away from the dead man.

What had he seen? What was chasing him and would they be coming after them next? Daryl felt the goose pimples rise on his arms as David and Jared carried the man to the side of the road and threw him in a ditch. The man had yelled out that "they" spoke to him, that they were speaking to each other. Who could he have meant? And how many of them were there?

"Dixon!"

"I'm comin'," Daryl said.

Later on that night as he lay staring at the dark sky with sleep a foreign stranger, Daryl thought about his day and how Everly was doing. His stomach twisted in knots at the thought of her, and he felt bile hit the back of his throat when his mind switched focus to Negan. He swallowed hard, breathing deeply in a desperate attempt to clear his mind.

Daryl thought about the dead man and his wild, incoherent warnings. He had been so frightened as he scrambled over the hill, seeking the help from the likes of Negan's Saviors; the ones who were, and had been, the least likely to aide him. In a flash, Daryl's fist hit the ground next to him with a painful thump, and he wondered if he'd meet the same horrible things the flailing man had ranted on about. And as thoughts of Everly and Negan invaded his mind again, he kind of wished he would.

Dwight drove down the empty road, the clouds hanging over his head like a lowering ceiling. He felt he could be crushed by it at any second, but he persisted and throttled the engine as the gate of Alexandria came into view. This could be a mistake. One that could put his head on the chopping block if he didn't play his cards right, or it could be the change that everyone needed. He and Sherry had agreed this was something that had to be done, and the sooner he threw himself out there, the faster the hell he'd been living in for the better part of the year would finally be over; whether he made it out alive or not.

He slowed to a stop, parking parallel to the gate that shielded the people who lived fearfully oppressed behind it. He swung himself off of the bike, and waved to the woman who stood above the gate watching him disdainfully.

"Why are you here?" She yelled down at him.

"I'm here to see Rick."

She looked him over and then scanned nervous eyes down the road. When she saw that it was empty, she looked down at him again and leaned over the steel wall that barricaded the town.

"What purpose are you here for? Why are you alone?"

"That can all be answered once I speak with Rick," Dwight answered. "I won't waste his time. I promise."

"Who is it, Tara?"

A voice asked from behind the gate. Suddenly, it began to shutter open and Dwight was met with the man he'd travelled all morning to see.

"Rick," Dwight greeted the man.

Rick stopped short as the gate was pulled all the way open, a small group of Alexandrian's forming behind him. He examined Dwight and then the road just like the woman named Tara had. He looked just as suspicious, if not a little upset, to see who his surprise visitor was.

"Dwight," Rick addressed him. "To what do I owe this…unwarranted visit?"

Dwight smiled and laughed, looking down at his feet. He had left the compound after Negan that morning, making sure that the time between his own departure and Negan's wouldn't catch any suspecting eyes or raise any questions. He was risking a lot to be here, having no excuse at all. He just hoped it would be worth it all.

"Unwarranted it may seem," Dwight began, meeting Rick's gaze, "but I think I might have something to share with you that you'll be interested in."

"What? Like those lies you told my boy?" Rick's mouth turned down into a scowl. "I know all about them. And before you go any further, I want to let you know that you and Negan are wasting your time."

"Negan isn't involved in this." Dwight responded. He looked at the people gathered around their leader and recognized a few. This was his one shot and he figured getting his plan out in the open in front of all of them would do. If he couldn't convince them now, then it would all be over before it even begun.

"No, he is. He is very much involved in everything, and I'm telling you now, I will kill you where you stand and make it look like an accident if you don't turn around and leave."

Ignoring the obviously empty threat, Dwight flicked his sights to Carl who stood a few feet behind his father. "Did you speak with Jesus?"

"No one has spoken to anybody about anything! That is not a conversation that has existed nor will it ever!" Rick yelled, growing irate.

"But it has…," Dwight decided to go straight to the heart of the matter. It was now or never. "I heard it. I heard you, Daryl, and Everly talking about making plans. You want to fight. You want to be free. And here I stand, giving you the opportunity but you're refusing to listen."

Rick sniffed and looked down at the ground. His voice was quieter. "I told you to leave."

"I know who I am. I know what I've done, and I'm telling you now…that that is not who I want to be anymore. I haven't wanted to be this person for a while, but I stuck with it to survive." Dwight shook his head, throwing his hands out in defeat. "I can't do it any longer. I want Negan gone and dead just as much as you do. You need people. You need guns. I can help with all of that. You just have to give me the chance."

"The chance to shove us face-first into the ground and make us bite the curb. Are you hearing this asshole, Rick?" Rosita stepped out from the small crowd, defensive and angry.

"Stop," Rick held up a hand, looking slightly behind his shoulder at her.

"I want to give you guys the chance to fight." Dwight amended. He needed to make them see. "It was you against us from the very beginning and it still is, but I've come to realize that I'm on the wrong team. I don't know what I can do to make you believe that. All I have are my words and the truth that lies behind them. I'm risking my life by coming here and offering this to you."

"Oh, you are such a lying sack of shit!" Rosita screamed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Don't trust him, Rick," Tara chimed in, her voice carrying as much hurt and anger as Rosita's. "He killed Denise. He took Daryl and Everly away from us. He will always be one of them!"

"Stop!" Rick called out and took a deep breath. He ran his hands down his face, inhaling deeply and then walked up to Dwight so that he was right in front of him, eye level. "Let's say I believe you. Believe that you want to get rid of Negan and are willing to help in doing that. How would it even work?"

Rick temples throbbed with an upcoming headache. This was his compromise, for his son and his people. He would hear Dwight out and take in what he had to say, but he wasn't going to agree to anything until he knew everything was foolproof and he had all of his ducks in a row. The odds against him were too great and the consequences too perilous to gamble with.

"The Kingdom," Dwight stated simply. "It's a large community that's been taken over by Negan, but as you would guess, morale there is low. The people there are beginning to resist, but cover it with compliance…for now. I can speak with their leader, convince him to fight-"

"Convince him just like you're convincing me?" Rick questioned with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "And what would this kingdom have to offer?"

"The Kingdom," Dwight corrected.

"The Kingdom, whatever," Rick sighed, annoyed. He was aware of the Kingdom and King Ezekiel, but he didn't want Dwight to know that. "If Negan is in control of this place, then they are probably in about the same position as us. Defenseless, cornered, and scared. The two of us wouldn't even make a dent in Negan's army if that was something we wanted to do."

"It is what you want to do, and there's more. The Hilltop, Somerset-" Dwight wanted to list off the communities he knew would rise against Negan if given the courage and the means to do so, but Rick interrupted him before he could finish, shaking his head and holding up a hand.

"See, this is where I can't trust you. You say you have resources, that you'll get us situated, but for what? To die? You're wantin' me to bet on a losing hand, and I'm not going to do it. Have you even talked to anyone else? Thought out logistics? Organized a plan? Strategized exactly how we're gonna get weapons in our hands to be able to even attempt this thing?" Rick shook his head again and laughed coldly. "Naw, I ain't buyin' it… Now, I'm gonna count to three, and if you aren't on your motorcycle by the time I'm done, I'll deliver your head to Negan myself."

Dwight stared hard at Rick, mustering the dignity to turn around and walk away with nothing. He forced a short laugh. "No, you won't…because that would be exactly the wrong thing to do."

Rick narrowed his eyes as Dwight turned his back on him and straddled his motorcycle. He reached for the key and twisted, kicking the kickstand up as the engine roared to life. He looked back to Rick one last time, casting a meaningful glance around the people behind him.

"I want to help. I'll do what I can to make you understand that. And if you want to win, you'll believe me."

The motorcycle rumbled boisterously as Dwight sped away and disappeared around the corner. Rick turned around to his group, hands on his hips and a look of concern on his face.

"We can't trust him," Michonne spoke up.

"What choice do we have?" Carl asked, circling in place to look around at everyone. "If we're gonna have any chance at all, Dwight might be it. We know Gregory is a yellow belly, but Maggie has Hilltop mostly under her control. And Jesus can help us with the others. The Kingdom and Somerset, or whatever Dwight was talking about. We can do it. We just have to plan it together."

"Carl has a point," Aaron noted.

"And there's also Oceanside," Tara piped in now, looking around sheepishly. Everyone turned to her. "The place I visited when…when all of this started. They had guns. Lots of them. They're terrified of Negan, but if we can get them to help us, it'd be a running start."

"Not to mention the explosions we found," Rosita added. She was slowly coming around to the idea. "I guess it's worth a shot to get at that dickless bastard, Negan."

"Dad, please," Carl begged him, eye pleading. "Let's go see Jesus and see what he has to say."

Rick surveyed his people, studied their faces and wondered if this was going to be the worst decision of his life. He took a deep breath. "Is everyone in agreement? Are we gonna try this thing?"

A series of yeses were issued from the tiny crowd, some more reluctant than others, but it seemed everyone was onboard. This was it. They were finally going all in. This was going to be the first day of the rest of their lives.

"Oh, gross," I complained, stopping short of stepping into the eviscerated belly of a decaying corpse.

"You wanna take the giblets and I'll get the liver?" Simon poked his head over my shoulder and observed the carcass below.

I slowly glanced at him with stony eyes. "No."

"Well, if you ain't gonna make use of it, little lady, let's get the show on the road. Pull down them trousers and let Mother Nature fly!"

"If you would be so kind, Simon, as to fuck off!" I roared at him, stepping over the dead body and walking farther into the woods.

"Just 'cause you can say it doesn't mean you should, sugar plum," he called after me. "Words can hurt feelings, you know."

"Somehow I doubt that you have any," I responded.

"Now they really are hurt," he said as I ducked next to a bush and pine tree, concealing myself. "Hey, line of sight!"

"You are not watching me, Simon. I'm right fucking here!" I yelled back annoyed, and hurriedly did my business, scanning the wooded area for anyone or anything that might, in fact, be watching me there.

"Hey, there's another one over here!" Simon informed me, his voice closer. I heard some shuffling coming from my left as I finished and stood up. I put my back against the tree and I pulled my pants up and fastened them. I started round the trunk.

"Get i- AAHH!"

A walker stood in front of me, its glassy eyes half melted and what was left of its rotting skin hung loosely from the tattered corpse. I put out my hands out to keep it away as it fell forward and I skipped backward, trying to avoid it. Its face hit my chest and a sudden spark of terror ripped through me as its teeth grazed my jacket, but it continued to fall and lay limp on the forest floor. Simon's deep, rumbling laugh caught my attention as I worked to catch my breath, a hand held against my chest.

"You fucking asshole!" I screamed, wanting to hit him badly.

He continued to laugh as I stomped past him and back to the road where the others were enjoying a break and eating their lunch.

"What? That was funny," he chuckled and walked behind me. When I ignored him, he came up swiftly next to me and draped a strong arm around my neck. "Oh, come on. Don't be such a wet blanket. I was just goofin' with ya."

I shoved his arm off of me as we came in view of the road. "Get away from me."

"What? The dead guy just wanted a look-see!" Simon playfully scoffed behind me as we broke through the trees and stepped onto the road. "Negan, this babysitting bullshit isn't as fun as I thought it would be. She wouldn't even let me watch."

"Dammit, Simon. What'd ya do now?" Negan asked with a smile as I stalked past him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Whoa, now. Chill."

"He shoved a walker corpse on me," I explained furiously. Negan looked at Simon, still amused but feigning concern for me.

"A live one?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point," I stammered, flustered.

"I thought it was funny." Simon shrugged and scratched his chin, clearly holding back a grin.

"Oooh, I get it. When you were out there poppin' a squat, you fell on a stick and it went up your ass, huh?" Negan smirked down at me, and I yanked my arm out of his hand.

"You shoved a dead fucker's corpse on her while she was taking a piss?" Lydia asked a now openly smiling Simon. She laughed. "You're fucking sick."

The group of them began to laugh and that's when I had enough. I didn't come on this trip to play childish games or be made a mockery of. Not that I had much choice in that respect, but I still had an agenda and tailgating with the lousy fucks who kept me against my will wasn't part of it. I pushed past Negan who was stoic and silent and wove between the vehicles, finding the one I rode in with him and Simon. I jumped into the cabin and slammed the door behind me, feeling bent and embarrassed and for no damn good reason.

There was a rap on the door that I had just escaped through and it creaked open, revealing Negan who adorned a sympathetic smile.

"Can I join you?"

I shrugged my shoulders and flipped him an eye-roll. He could do whatever the hell he wanted; he didn't need to ask me. Taking my curbed response as confirmation, he climbed up in the cabin next to me, situating himself behind the steering wheel and shutting the door. He rested Lucille on the dashboard, her wires gleaming dully in the wan daylight beneath the windshield, and turned to me.

"You okay?"

I glared threateningly at him. He was quite aware of how I felt at the moment and it certainly was not 'okay'. He let out a stiff sigh and scooted father down in his seat, leaning his head back on the headrest and clasping his fingers in his lap where he twiddled his thumbs.

"I mean, you know they're a bunch of asshole, right? That didn't suddenly become apparent to you out there just now, did it?" Negan creased his brows at me, and I lifted one of mine at him. He smiled. "Don't be childish. It's unattractive."

Is that so? I had just stumbled upon an unmarked treasure. I crossed my arms, and shifted in my seat to face away from him, curling one leg on the seat in front of me so I was more comfortable as I glared out of the passenger side window. Negan's sonorous laugh vibrated around my head and I heard him shift behind me followed by the release of the door lock as he opened it. I closed my eyes in relief.

"Follow me," he said and tugged on the sleeve of my jacket.

"What?"

"Get your tight, uppity ass out of the truck and follow me," he repeated as I swiveled to look at him. He was already out of the truck with Lucille in hand. "Don't make me repeat myself for a third time, Everly."

Reluctantly, I slid over the seats to him and jumped out of the truck, my feet landing right in front of his. He gently smiled down at me as I stepped to the side and he shut the truck door. Calling over his shoulder, he told the group to be ready to leave in twenty minutes. That in the meantime, he and I were going to take a walk and let off some steam.

"I got a pack of rubbers in my bag if you need one or two!" Simon generously offered.

Negan chuckled and shook his head, waving his hand in the air as we walked down the road. "We're good, thank you!"

"Child rearing is dangerous nowadays! You kids don't wanna get stuck with a disaster like that, now would you? For the love of God, think of the child, dammit!" He called to our retreating backs; it was followed by a rumpus of giggles and chatter.

I sighed soundly through my nose. "I'm really hoping one day that I get to punch him in the fucking face."

"Now that's an admission if I ever heard one," Negan beamed. He swung Lucille in the air beside him cheerfully. "What you need is a little aerobic therapy. You are strung up tight. Perhaps a little too tight for my liking," he winked, "and I think once you free yourself up a bit, get those bottled up emotions out instead of locking them inside, you'll feel ten times better."

I snorted. "What did you have in mind?"

He stopped, placing Lucille on his shoulder and she stuck out behind him on the other side of his head, a silent omen. He indicated to the woods behind me with his gloved hand and smiled.

"I can't wait to see this."

Negan slipped an arm around my shoulders and guided me into the brush, the canopy of trees causing the day to seem darker. He let out a long, high whistle and peered at me stealthily from the corner of his eyes, a smirk growing on him.

I dipped my eyebrows at him, not entirely catching onto what he had planned, and my anxiety began to grow. I stumbled, a vine catching my ankle, but Negan's arm held onto my shoulder tightly and he steadied me. Then the gnashing hiss of walkers drifted through the trees, and we saw them stumbling laboriously toward us. Negan let out another whistle and slipped Lucille from his shoulder.

He held her up to me.

"What?" I looked from him to the bat, wanting clarification before I took her in my hands.

"My dirty girl and I are in an open relationship." Negan unhooked his arm from my shoulder and took my right hand and wrapped it around the base of his beloved bat. "I do tend to get jealous, so don't keep her from me for too long. And go easy on her. She does like a rough ride, but I tend to get nervous when she's with inexperienced players."

"Uh," I muttered and cycled my confusion between him, Lucille, and the approaching walkers. Then it hit. He was giving her to me to swing out my frustrations. I examined the bat in my hands, studied the wood, admired the varnish, and tremored at the barbed-wire that decorated it. "This doesn't feel right."

"It will once you get started. Don't think about what you're doing. Just go out there and fucking do it."

"You killed my friends with this." I stared numbly up at him feeling ill knowing what I held was once covered in their blood.

"I did." He nodded, the smile dropping from his face a bit. "But you can redeem her. Redeem yourself."

He pushed my shoulder gently and I turned to face the walkers. There were five of them spaced out far enough that I confidently felt I'd be able to take them down without being bitten, but the risk was always there. Would Negan have my back if I became overwhelmed?

Yes, the answer was automatic in my head. My grip on the bat hardened.

"You better make me better," I spoke to Lucille, and stepped forward.

The first one snarled at me with a toothy, lipless smile, throwing out groping claws. And I swung. I threw Lucille back and shot her forward with as much strength I could muster. The monster in front of me staggered backwards, a large dent now caving in the left side of its head, and it fell to the ground to lie still in a bed of green leaves and pine needles.

A surge of ardor projected through me, hitting me like a missile. All the rage, all the hurt, it bubbled to the surface, and now it was blowing over the edge and spewing down the sides. I rushed at the next one, yelling as I arched Lucille upwards and hit the walker in the jaw.

The bottom half of its face shattered in a gooey mess, a gaping hole where its mouth used to be. It caught its balance as it stumbled back, nearly falling, and its white dead eyes locked on me again like a laser; but I was there, and I was ready. I hit it again, catching it against the ear this time. Lucille ripped its gelatinous skin off, a trail of dark red sludge trailing behind her arc. She met the walker face-first again, bringing it down permanently, and it slumped over, crumpled head in the dirt and ass in the air. I kicked it over on its side and advanced on the last three.

I was a ball of fury now; a storm in the darkening haze and lighting the sky on fire with my screams and smolder. And Lucille, she helped me smother the pain and weakness, employing control in my hands. She was a beacon and I was wielding her power.

Edited by lolasskicker.

Hey, guys. I want to share something personal with you because it might effect my update next week. One of my puppers passed away this past Monday, and it was completely unexpected and quick. I've been pretty bummed and stressed out about it, and I haven't been able to concentrate on one thing for too long all week.

I will say that writing the last few paragraphs of this chapter was actually a bit cathartic for me. It helped me get out a little bit of the anger I feel over losing her. Maybe I can continue to channel it positively in my writing. If I don't get a chapter out next week, I'll try hard to post one the Friday after if not sooner. I won't leave you guys hanging.

As always, thank you for your reviews, especially those I can't respond to privately. You all make me happy.