Chapter 34
"And we have arrived!" Simon spoke above the music, turning the rumbling truck down a dirt path.
We rode up to a small gated area, the perimeter surrounded by a combination of brick, mortar and wood. Simon halted the truck in front of the gate, popping open his door to yell out to the men keeping watch. He sat back in his seat and shifted the gear into drive as the gate began to slowly open.
"Park near Merrit's. I wanna speak with her first," Negan told Simon as we pulled inside.
"Right-o, boss." Simon followed Negan's instructions, parking near a large ranch-style house.
"What is this place called again?" I asked, not directing the question to either man in particular.
"This glorious palace is Somergrove. The subset of the larger community Somerset," Simon answered as he pushed open his door. "How about you use those pretty peepers of yours and stop asking so many damn questions. I know you've got a brain."
"Asshole," I mumbled as Negan chuckled and Simon hopped out of the truck, yelling for someone to "beer" him.
Negan took hold of my wrist as he stepped down from the cabin, dragging me after him. He grabbed my hip as I jumped down and I pushed his hand away the instant my boots touched the ground.
"I'm fine, thank you." I avoided his gaze and attempted to take some of the temper out of my voice. He gave me a smile in return and leaned to grab something out of the truck, trapping me against it in the process with his chest pushing mine.
"My dirty girl needs a bath," Negan said as he pulled out Lucille, holding her in the air beside us. "And since you're the one who got her all wet with biter blood, you're going to wash her off. I trust you'll be gentle and clean her real good for me."
I observed the bat and all the gore that hung off of it. I had gone wild, pulverizing walker bodies with Negan's bat and enjoyed it. I didn't want to admit that I had. I felt guilty; like I did something shameful and dirty. But I did feel better. The constant ache in my chest had lightened for the few moments when I used Lucille, and I forgot who I was, where I was, and all that have happened to me. In that time, I was only a vessel of stifled emotions and my one goal was to set them all free.
I took the wooden bat from Negan's gloved hand, our fingers brushing as I wrapped mine around Lucille's hilt. Our eyes met, his shining bronze in the lowering sun, and I blinked, looking away self-consciously.
"Where do you want me to wash it off?" I asked and gazed around the small settlement. I still felt Negan's chest, his leather jacket just barely touching mine.
"To the south, there's a large pond. You can wash her off there."
He backed away from me, dimples dressing his cheeks, and winked as he sauntered off.
I filled my lungs up with air, grasping for control of my limbs. The feeling of the soft grain of Lucille in my hands sparked some sense into me, and I circled around the truck, looking for the pond Negan had mentioned. I saw it sitting below a hill with a small boat and two children inside, fishing. To the right sprawled an expansive orchard just beyond the Somergrove walls, the tops of the uniform trees swaying in an early evening zephyr. My throat clutched when I tried to swallow, and as I walked to the pond, I made an effort to analyze the encounter I just had with Negan.
What the fuck was that? I asked myself.
Nothing. That was nothing. You're just feeling grateful. He helped you. He's being kind. An inner voice responded.
He is not kind, and he does not help those who don't benefit him in the end. I argued.
More than likely, or you could just be seeing that soft side Sherry mentioned. The inner voice countered.
"Oh, fuck you," I muttered to myself as I neared the pond's edge.
"Excuse me?" A small, but offended voice spoke from my right.
"What?" I spun to face the person in question, and saw a teenage girl. Her dirty blond hair was tied back, a braid falling over her left shoulder, and she carried two large basket loads of produce; one in her arms and the other strapped to her back and waist.
"You cursed at me, ma'am, but all I was doing was trying to deliver these to your trucks."
Her cerulean blue eyes were soft, but suspicion and acrimony were held behind them. She hiked one knee up, pushing the bottom of the basket and adjusted her grip.
"Oh, no," I smiled awkwardly. "I was talking to myself. I-I didn't even see you there. I'm sorry."
She stopped struggling with the basket in her arms and looked me deadpan in the eyes. She measured me head to toe and eyed Lucille in my hand before flicking her gaze to the group of people up the hill behind me. Then her brows narrowed.
"Okay," she sighed and gazed at the pond briefly. "I'm sorry for offending you. If you'd like, I can offer you something else, maybe some new clothes, to make up for whatever it was that I did wrong."
"Uuuh," I stammered as she began to struggle with the basket again.
"May I deliver these, ma'am? They're very heavy, and I need to look after my little brothers."
"Uh, here," I dropped Lucille and offered my hands. "Let me help."
I grabbed the bottom of the wicker sides and attempted to pull the basket into my arms, but the girl held on. Her blue eyes were wide, staring at me incredulously.
"What?" I asked again, not sure what I did wrong this time.
"You're just going to leave…it…there?" She stole a glance at the grass by my feet and I followed her eyes. Lucille lay prone on the ground, bloodied and abandoned.
"Oh…shit. Uh," I looked back and forth between her and the bat. "You know what? It's fine. It's just a bat. I'll get it when we're done with this."
The girls eyes suddenly turned doubtful again, and she held fast onto the basket, turning her body to the slightly to the side.
"Thank you for the kind offer, but I can manage."
"Trevor!" A petulant voice carried over the water and the girl whipped her head to the source.
On the pond, the two boys were in the boat, one sitting in the bow and the other standing and struggling to reel in a fish.
"Hey! Sit down, Trevor!" The girl called out.
"Are they your brothers?" I asked her as we both watched the bigger of the two boys struggling with his fishing pole.
"Yes." Her worried gaze flitted to me momentarily. "I know it's just a pond, but ponds can still be deep, and you never know what's in them. I'm afraid of them falling in."
"They can't swim?"
"They can swim fine," she answered hastily, then sighed. "I don't ever let them get near the water without me usually."
"Are you…? Where are your parents?" I questioned. I wanted to know more about this girl. I thought being interested in her history would get her to open up to me, trust me more.
"They're gone. You should know that," her tone was accusatory.
"I…wasn't sure."
The triumphant yells of the two boys as the oldest reeled in a big fish caught our attention. They were pumping their fists in the air and rocking the boat in their excitement, their high, delighted voices mingling together.
"You idiots. Sit down!" The girl yelled at them, and the two boys sat immediately, but their self-satisfied grins were still apparent on their little faces.
"How old are they?" I asked.
The girl gave me a sideways look. "Eight and six."
"Oh, cute," I smiled, and pang of loss ripped at my heart. I bit my bottom lip as it started to quiver. "I'm sorry you lost your parents."
"I only lost one," the girl faced me now and studied me. "My mother is still alive, but she's at the other settlement, Somerset. My father…died when we were split up."
Her blue eyes found the baseball bat in the grass and I realized instantly that Lucille was the cause.
"Here." I motioned for the basket again, and the girl reluctantly handed it over, but the hate that heated her eyes seemed to fade a bit.
"Thank you," she said, and wiped her free, sweaty hands on her pants.
"It's no problem," I smiled. "Did that happen to a lot of families? You know…being split up?"
"Yeah," her eyes fired up again, but they remained curious. "Merrit says it's how we stay smart, learn to follow the rules and avoid meeting her."
She pointed down at Lucille, and I nodded my understanding. I looked at the ripened fruit in the basket. It was heavy as hell, and I was quite impressed with the small girl in front of me for carrying it as far as she did.
"Merrit runs this place?" I asked, hoping to change the subject a little.
"Yeah, she used to live with all of us back at Somerset, but she offered to come here and run things."
"Negan knew her?"
"No, but she earned his trust quickly. Merrit isn't the kind of person you get in the way of. She's very unyielding."
"Then I'm surprised she gave into Negan when he came."
"I'm not," the girl snorted. "She might be bossy, but she's still a follower when someone who has more authority than her comes along. She's a brownnoser. And really, none of us were given the choice."
Her porcelain face turned sad then and she gazed back out over the pond to watch her brothers. I shifted the basket in my hands; it seemed to be growing heavier by the second.
"You're different," she said, turning back to me. "Why?"
My mouth moved to find the right words. "Let's just say…I was split up from my family, too, and I wasn't given a choice either."
"What's your-" she started to speak, but a splash from the pond interrupted her. We both wheeled to face the pond. There was only one boy in the boat now.
"Jason!" The girl struggled with the straps of the basket that was tied to her shoulders and waist.
"Mason?" I whispered, my heart stopping.
The basket fell from my hands as I flew at an all out sprint to the water, ripping my jacket off and letting it fly out of my hands behind me. I hit the small dock at a rapid speed, my boots pounding on the deteriorating wood as I rushed down and dived into the water.
It was cold, and my hands hit the muck at the bottom a few feet in, but it was still deep. Deep enough for a child to drown in. I pushed off of the pond floor and broke its surface, inhaling a lung full of air and then frantically paddling toward the boat. My legs were burning, my boots heavy and my once injured ankle starting to ache. It felt like I was swimming through mud as I struggled to reach the boys.
"Where did he go in?" I yelled breathlessly at the little boy named Trevor as I neared him.
"Over there!" He pointed to a spot opposite the side of the boat I was on, and I rushed around, making out the top of a little blonde head going under the water.
"Jason!" I heard their sister's cries on the bank behind me.
I dove under the water, swimming in the direction of the boy. I reached out my groping hands and kept my eyes open, trying to see as much as I could through the murky waters, but I couldn't find him.
I went up for air and searched the surface again, looking for any signs of where he might be. A few bubbles to my left ascended to the water and I submerged myself again, moving in that direction. And I found him, ghostly and sinking down to the bottom.
I grabbed his shirt, yanking him to my chest as I wrapped one arm under both of his and swam for the top. We came up, me gasping and him still and silent against me, his head resting limply on my shoulder.
"Oh no." I heard Trevor whimpering from the boat.
I turned Jason around, putting his back to my chest as I lay back on the water and swam backwards to the small boat.
"Pull him in!" I instructed Trevor, and he grabbed his little brother's hands, straining to drag him in. I pushed on Jason's legs, helping to get him inside of the boat.
I stretched out my legs, trying to find purchase on the bottom of the pond the boost myself inside as well, but the water was much deeper here. Instead, I kicked my legs as hard as I could and pulled, trying not to flip the tiny craft. I barely managed to get in before it started to roll over, Trevor screaming and holding onto the opposite edge. I caught Jason by the shirt as he started to slip out and steadied the boat, the sides buoying back and forth in the water.
I sat up and laid Jason on his back by my feet. I grabbed the paddles, yelling for Trevor to sit, and rowed us back to the dock as fast as I could. I watched Jason, looking for any sign of life from him. His lips were turning blue, his chest motionless, and his skin was paling quickly.
"Please, don't be too late," I begged, and the boat hit the dock.
We were surrounded by a flurry of people, arms and hands a blur around me as Jason was taken from the boat. I watched with abated breath as an older man laid him flat on the dock and started chest compressions. Everything seemed utterly hushed, the wet sucking noise coming from Jason's chest the only sound I could hear as his head rolled lifelessly back and forth.
"Come on!" The older man growled as he continued to work on him.
A gush of water sprayed from the boy's mouth, and the man turned him on his side, hitting his back as what seemed like an endless amount of water left him. I took in a shaky breath as Jason started coughing and then crying.
His sister rushed forward, falling to her knees in front of him and gathering him up in her arms. They were both crying now, a huddle of tears and murmured reassurances. Trevor fell in behind them, joining in on the relief.
"Let's move him to the infirmary," the older man whispered to the girl, and the group that had formed around the dock dispersed as the four of them moved to a series of small buildings by the ranch-styled house.
I stayed in the boat, fighting the urge to break down and looking for the strength to stand on my own. My limbs were weak; shaking as the adrenaline slowly left my system. And below the cover of ease at saving Jason was the darkness where I bled and agonized over the one I had lost and couldn't save.
Powerful hands gripped my upper arms, drawing me from the boat and onto the flimsy dock. I shivered, feeling leather under my palms and smelt a musky scent that I was beginning to become too familiar with. Gazing up, I saw Negan examining my features, the setting sun casting a burning glaze in his eyes again. I thought he was angry with me for leaving Lucille, but the words he spoke caught me off guard.
"You alright?" Negan asked, dipping down to look me in the eye. He let me go, his fingers moving to the zipper of his jacket and stripping it off of his shoulders to wrap around mine, his scent now fully enveloping me.
"Yeah," I whispered, surprised at his gesture. I looked cautiously up the bank to where Lucille lay prone in the grass, a tumble of fruit scattered around her head from where I had dropped the basket. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave it."
"Yeah, you did, but I'll let you get away with it this one time. Don't fucking let it happen again."
I mustered the courage to look him in the face and saw him smiling at me. He didn't look upset at all.
"I would tell you to move your ass and clean her up like you said you would, but you're a hot damn mess." He eyed my figure, peeling away the edges of his jacket to look inside. "Get some dry clothes on. Preferably ones that aren't see-through."
I yanked the jacket from his fingers, clutching it against my soaked chest. I walked down the dock to fetch my bag from the truck, and Negan followed after me with a chuckle.
"I'll bring it back to you when I'm done changing," I spoke over my shoulder.
"Or I could get it after I'm done helping you change," he suggested.
I twirled to face him, anger taking over sorrow. "Are you really going to be that insensitive right now? I know you aren't the epitome of compassion and you'd rather crack shitty jokes than pretend to give a damn, but can you just spare one measly ounce of decency for once. A child nearly drowned. He almost died, and-"
My breath caught in my throat, the image of Mason drenched and blue on the docks vivid in my mind. The tears burned my eyes and I squeezed them shut to get rid of his gray and bloated face, already wanting to pick up Lucille and forget again. And who would I hit? Negan? Simon? The rest of their snarling doggies they boasted about? Or would I find a way to use it for myself and give Negan a reason to brandish her against me?
I snatched the bat off of the ground, holding it tightly in both of my hands and pointed it at him. It shook in my hands, the water from my adventitious swim slicking my palms and fingers, and the sudden idea of chucking it into the pond crossed my mind like a little devil on my shoulder.
Do it, a voice urged as I glanced at the water. Do it and whatever happens after happens.
Negan speculated me and as I stood stock-still aiming the soiled bat at him like a dagger, the corners of his mouth turned down and the hint of a glare was a blossoming stain on his features.
"Everly," his deep baritone was a warning, and he held a hand out as he took a step toward me. I took a step back. "Be rational. I made a tasteless joke, it was a mistake. I'm fucking sorry."
"No, you're not."
"Truly, I am." Negan attempted to smile, but the irritation he felt quickly washed it away, and he started gradually edging toward me. I moved away, not entirely sure what my plan was going to be and before I could form an indication of one, my foot landed on something hard and round, and I was tripping backward.
Negan was quick, grabbing my wrists and yanking me up before I hit the ground, tearing Lucille from my grasp and crushing my arms to my sides as he held me against him. His jacket had fallen off of me in the tussle, and my soaked shirt was now dampening his.
"That was a big fucking mistake," he whispered menacingly down at me, and I dug my nails into his chest in an attempt to push him away. He barely moved an inch.
"Hey, Merrit! I think two someones need to borrow a room for a few minutes!" Simon's voice drifted down the hill. "You think you two can make it behind closed doors or should everyone just look the other way?"
"We're fine," Negan answered, his tone not amused in the least with Simon's antics this time.
We glared at each other, and I wondered what Negan was waiting for, why he hadn't thrown me to the ground and started bashing my head in yet. The way he was looking at me, it seemed like he very much wanted to do so.
"You just lost an ass-load of privileges," he spoke.
"No." The lonely cell, my first home in the Sanctuary, came to mind.
"Yes!" He bellowed in my face, his nose almost touching mine. "I was all for forgiving you the first goddamn time, but the moment you pointed my girl at me was when you lost it."
"I'm sorry," I whispered sheepishly. I needed to turn this around. Losing Negan's trust was the exact opposite of what I was supposed to be doing. "I… The boy… He reminded me of my little brother. And I just got angry. I'm sorry."
I topped it off with a remorseful pout, sending wide eyes up at him. It didn't seem to work as he remained cross, his compressing hold continuing to crowd me into him and his glare denying. He lifted Lucille who occupied his right hand in the air, and I figured this was it; this was where he was going to end the misery once and for all.
"She needs to be cleaned," was all he said, and he let go of my arms.
He held Lucille out to me, the front of his clothes about as wet as mine. And he was still furious with me. It was evident in how he glowered, his tall form rigid and tense and his mood impatient. I gently took the bat from his hands, not wanting to look him in the eye anymore, and walked back down to the water's edge. I stepped in a few ways, not really caring about my boots anymore because they were already ruined, and I cleaned Lucille the best that I could.
When she was a soft shade of yellow again, no longer stained red and brown from the rotten chunks of flesh now floating in the water instead of ringing her crown, I shuffled back to Negan, offering her to him cleansed and restored. He took her from my hands and pointed at his fallen jacket.
"Pick it up," he demanded.
And I obeyed, grabbing it from the ground and holding it out to him. He walked up to me and ignored the jacket in my outstretched hand, taking the damp fabric of my shirt between his fingers instead. He caressed it, water welling onto his fingertips and down his wrists.
"It's still see-through," he stated simply, and I looked down at myself, seeing the black, ratty bra I wore underneath. "Should I make you walk in front of all those people up there just like this, or should I be the nice fucking guy that I am and let you borrow my jacket again?"
I swallowed. "You should be a nice fucking guy."
A smirk grew on his face, the hard lines of aggravation disappearing. Relief spread in my chest at the sight. I never thought I'd be happier to see him smile at me and I almost smiled in return.
"Then put the damn thing on, C.J. Parker."
I did, slipping my arms through the sleeves this time and breathing in Negan's scent that emanated from it. I found it eerily comforting, and I wasn't sure if it was because it covered my torso completely, the leather large and baggy as it hung off of my frame, or if I was being conditioned to appreciate the small amounts of kindness that Negan had been showing me recently.
"Thank you." I found my manners, wanting to stay on this good side of him for now.
"You're welcome," he smiled sincerely, but grabbed my arm forcefully and put his mouth to my ear. "But I'm not done with you yet. Broken rules still have consequences and just because you can give me a pretty look, bat those long eyelashes and utter a half-assed apology does not mean you don't have to pay them."
He pulled away, staring down at me in eerie benevolence and loosening the cramping cinch he had on my arm.
"Go get cleaned up. We head out in thirty."
"Hey, y'all," Maggie smiled as a small band of her former group came through the Hilltop gates. She took off her gardening gloves and adjusted Glenn's ball cap on her head. Hurrying over to them, she hugged them each in turn. "What has you guys stoppin' by?"
"Hey, Maggie," Rick greeted her back. "Just wanted to visit, see how things are holdin' up here. Maybe have a private discussion with you and Jesus sans Gregory."
"I think I can arrange that," Maggie said, eyeing her old friends. Along with Rick, Carl, Michonne, Aaron, Tara, Eugene, and Rosita were also present. "This ain't no family emergency, is it?"
"Close enough. We should probably hurry it up before it gets too late," Rick replied.
"All right. Follow me." Maggie waved her gloves at them to follow and led them inside the old colonial museum.
"Have the Saviors been by recently?" Rick asked as they made it inside the open foyer.
"They stopped by last week. Should be due for another visit in the next day or two."
Rick and Michonne exchanged a look, knowing that if they Saviors decided to show up while they were there, they'd be screwed. Rick had been on edge with everyone coming with him. He wanted to go alone, maybe bringing Michonne or Carl with him, but the others had insisted on joining them. A larger group of them would have a harder time remaining unseen if Negan's brainless bandwagon came cavorting through the doors at any second.
"We'll be fast, then," Michonne offered, giving the others in the group a knowing stare.
"That'd probably be for the best, but if anyone does happen to show up, they wouldn't have much reason to go around lookin'. Nothing here has changed much," Maggie said, trying to ease any apprehension. "I usually just stay up in the library when they come by. They get what they want and move on."
"Let's hope that'll be the case if they do come knocking," Rick replied.
"This way," Maggie nodded to a set of double doors. "We'll use Gregory's office. You guys get situated while I find Jesus. Shouldn't take me a moment."
"Gregory won't interrupt?" Tara questioned.
"How serious is this?" Maggive furrowed her brows and look around everyone's anxious faces. She lowered her voice, "Are we talking operation overthrow, here?"
"Pretty serious, and yes," Rick informed her. "We're finally gonna follow through on our plan to get rid of Negan. We might have a way in now."
"You found a way in?"
"We're still working on the specifics. That's why we're here, but yes."
"Okay, well," Maggie shook her head, taking all of what Rick said in. "Gregory's takin' his afternoon nap. Never seen the man miss it for anything. He'll be preoccupied long after we're done, I'm sure."
"That sounds about heavenly, right now," Eugene spoke up, his large cheeks red and sweating. "Wouldn't mind a mid-afternoon snooze myself, or a glass of tepid water, if that could be sufficed."
Everyone gave him an incredulous look and Eugene shrugged his shoulders, asking them, "What?"
"Really?" Tara asked him. "You're gonna make the pregnant woman fetch you some water when this very important meeting could be cut short at any minute?"
"Well, I certainly don't know where some is to acquire it myself, and I'd go searchin', but I wouldn't want to snoop the coop and stick my nose where it don't belong."
Michonne rolled her eyes.
"I'll get you some water, Eugene," Maggie grinned and then gestured to the study doors. "Make yourselves at home. I'll be back in a jiffy."
"Thank you kindly, Maggie." Eugene nodded and headed to the doors.
Rick held out a hand for everyone to precede him, taking a look around before walking inside himself and shutting the doors. What he failed to see was Gregory hiding behind a corner on the second floor.
The insipid man hadn't been able to sleep, his legs were too restless and his insecurities keeping him awake; that's why he needed a nap in the first place because he couldn't sleep at night either. He decided to make himself a cup of tea with a dash of something harder, hoping that would make him drowsy and quell the bothersome thoughts in his mind, but what he unexpectedly overheard was much more interesting. And now he was eager to hear more.
Edited by lolasskicker.
Thank you to my guest reviewer. I was starting to think no one liked Ch. 33, ha.
Also, there's a video on youtube entitled "Origins of Negan". It's apparently a sneak peek of season 8 if anyone is interested in looking that up.