Chapter 63
He was still awake, determination the fuel that kept his mind working as he searched for two phantoms that had disappeared like a mist in the wind. Or more correctly, like two shitheads who jumped off of a motherfucking cliff into undoubtedly freezing cold water. If he hadn't witnessed the stupidity himself, he might not have believed it, but here he was, astonished and seething. They had dropped off the edge like a sack of rocks and were gone, swept downstream by raging currents. They could be alive, dead, or a combination of both if the fall hadn't killed them immediately, but Negan had no time to think of anything but the first option: that they had survived, that they had escaped him.
No, he told himself. The jump hadn't been high enough. He'd seen people survive falling from much taller heights. They weren't dead. Not fucking yet.
His men had combed the banks, looking for any trace of the defectors, but they'd found neither hide nor hair. Even with the sun above the trees, a second sweep had left them with jack shit. Now it was a game of, "Where the fuck could they be?" It was a question Negan wanted an immediate answer to yet one that would grant anything but. He would have to work to find them, and he knew they were out there, somewhere.
"They had to have gone in those woods over there," Gavin had said, pointing.
Negan had wanted to agree, but he'd sent men ahead to the other side, searching surrounding neighborhoods that led into the city and then into the city itself. But here he stood empty-handed and wifeless; well, to an extent.
"Not if they got caught in the current and couldn't get out," was a reply from one of Gavin's troops. "Might be all the way to the ocean by now. Shark bait."
It was clearly a hyperbole, but Negan had seen the point.
There's no way they made it too fucking far, Negan mused again, going over the terrain in his mind. Even if they had rode the current for a few miles, it wouldn't have taken his Saviors long to pinpoint their location. There wasn't anywhere for them to go. A better explanation was that they had a specific place in mind before leaving, or they were fucking dead. The former could be easily attained. Dwight was working with them after all, and there was no telling what information he had given them. But if they were dead, well, then none of this would matter.
Now, Negan stood in front of Alexandria, his ire growing as he reflected on the unproductive morning. He had already paid an unannounced and disruptive visit to the Hilltop, but that had served as a waste of time and only gifted him a stronger headache than the one he'd had before. He hadn't even spared the Kingdom a forward thought even though he knew it was the closest community from where Daryl and Everly had disappeared. Instead, he sent proxies in his place to scour the city, turning over every corner they could have hidden in, but the dead were like rats, scuttling and surrounding his patrollers. His Saviors deemed the city unsafe for two travelers on foot, but that didn't fool Negan. Not one bit. So, he sent his men to the Kingdom lest he went himself and lost his shit on the fairytale sideshow. He already felt the ice breaking from under him.
Viewing Alexandria, Negan frowned. The gate he had mangled so beautifully was propped up awkwardly, allowing for a smidgeon of the security and safety that the sprawling town had had before he'd found it and broken her in. That is when he noticed a new addition to this Mayberry town, circling her walls of Alexandria was a crude beginning of what looked like a dry moat. The ground was open, large piles of dirt covering the grass, road, and yards of the few houses not fortunate enough to be inside of her walls. Looking at it all, he wanted to blow it all in again; blow down the whole damn town and revel in the destruction that would burn from her timber, but restraint was an angel on his shoulder, telling him to make logical decisions, not ones he'd regret.
"Open the damn gate!" He heard one of his men bark from the other side, and slowly, screeching like a dying horse on its last legs, the bent and mangled excuse for a door slid open.
Negan put on a small grin, faint but still present as he waited silently to be welcomed in. His Saviors were parked right by the gate, all eager for his arrival. He was sure they were ready to go home, but Negan felt like a week wasn't enough for the Alexandrians to be left on their own; even if he had taught them a nasty big lesson. Now, he was mighty glad he'd had the foresight to keep his men stationed here for so long.
Once the gate was opened as far as it would go, he strolled in languidly, like he didn't have a care in the world despite the warring storm that surged inside of him. He bypassed a dark-haired younger woman, ignoring the socially awkward mullet man and the angry Latina chick that stood by his side with a hip jutted out and arms crossed as she glared daggers at the side of his head. Yet Negan saw no Carl, and he certainly saw no sign of Rick; his smile grew genuine.
"Andy," Negan greeted his foremost man.
"Sir," Andy greeted back. He was a tall, lanky kid in his early twenties that looked like he would melt at the faintest of glares, but he was self-assured, reliable, and ruthless when it counted. It caught people off-guard which Negan liked.
"What the fuck is that shit outside?" Negan flipped a thumb over his shoulder.
"A walker preventative, sir. I considered not allowing it, but it gave them other means to stay preoccupied rather than glowering at our backs every hour of the day. I didn't see the harm," Andy replied honestly.
The Sanctuary leader nodded, slightly perturbed, but he dismissed the issue for a later discussion. "Any sign of my wife and the pig that's with her?"
"As I reported to you, there's been none. We haven't let the Alexandrians leave in a day, but those who we did allow to go before left in small groups and they didn't stay gone for long," Andy supplied.
Negan nodded thoughtfully. "You've searched this place? Found every nook and cranky that some fuckwits could hide in?"
"As thoroughly as we could given our numbers, sir. I didn't want to leave the gate with one guard, and with only two of us searching, we've been left with little time to cover adequate ground."
Negan frowned, displeased but understanding. Andy had taken precautions; ones that ensured the Alexandrians couldn't weasel their way out of the new hole they'd buried themselves so deeply in. He appreciated that.
"Search it again. You know this shit town better than we do at the moment," Negan ordered. Andy dipped his head once in agreement and rounded up his fellow soldiers, giving them commands to strip search the town once more.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Rosita's outraged voice finally drew his attention to the trio by the gate.
"Oh, fucking excuse the shit out of my manners. I didn't see you three dipshits standing there," Negan taunted. He glanced away from a glowering Rosita to see Eugene practically shaking in his boots. "How's it hanging, Tennessee Top Hat? Make anymore cool as shit inventions to show me?"
"Negative, sir. I've been immersed in matters otherwise as of late, which I'm sure you can understand the circumstances as to how and why," Eugene replied strongly despite his appearance.
Negan forewent a reply and waltzed up to the three, looking them over. He tried to read their faces, looking for any signs or hints that they might be hiding something, but other than Eugene's frequently shifting eyes, they maintained eye contact with him which led him to think maybe he was hot on a cold trail.
"You three not up to anything, are you?" He asked anyway.
"What would we be up to?" The dark-haired woman spoke before Rosita could run her big mouth.
Negan squinted his eyes at her, trying to place a name to a face but failed. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Tara," she replied evenly, but there was a bit of an impatience hidden underneath her tone.
"Well, Tara, you fucking tell me. I'm not a goddamn mind reader."
"We aren't up to anything," Rosita bit out angrily. "So why don't you take your horde of mindless assholes and leave us alone. You've caused enough trouble and death to last us a fucking lifetime."
"No, shit," Negan chuckled, Lucille hanging lazily from his shoulder. "I guess I should be more specific, though. I meant to ask if you've been hiding anyone in here; two specific fucking people, in fact. You might know 'em." He looked Rosita square in the eye. "One's a sexy ass redhead that's about as fouled mouthed and sassy as you, but infinitely more tolerable." He looked to Eugene and Tara. "The other is a dumb fuck, redneck, piece of shit termite that goes by the stupid fucking name of Daryl. You three shits seen 'em around?"
Rosita laughed. "Wow, what sad news. You mean to tell me that you, Mr. Badass In Black, can't keep track of two people? Two of your people?" She scoffed derisively. "Pathetic. You must be losing your touch."
"Rosita," Tara warned nervously, but Negan was too preoccupied controlling his hand.
He wanted to reach out and smack the smirk off of her face, but he fought the urge and maintained up his own grin, not giving in to her ridicule. Instead, he felt himself falling back on what he always used to control his anger, sadness, or any other emotion he felt left him vulnerable; his humor. It was, and always would be, his safety net.
"You know, since I'm already here," Negan took a step back and gazed at the three of them, "I might as well take my share of supplies. I mean, it has been about a week, has it fucking not? Maybe a bit over that."
He caught the frowns on their faces.
"Oh, what the fuck is it?" He asked sarcastically. "Don't tell me that you've got nothing for me. You're so capable and resilient, right? While I'm just losing my touch, but," he stepped back up to the small group, "it seems to me like your leader Rick might not be handling things so damn well."
Negan waved one hand in the air at them with a large smile. Rosita mumbled something heatedly to herself in Spanish while the other two looked away, abased.
"How's the fucking prick holding up anyway?" Negan asked cockily.
Tara stepped forward, deciding to speak on behalf of the group. The rest of this fruitless endeavor was going to be civil, and no one was ending this day hurt or robbed any more than they already were.
"He needs a doctor."
Negan flicked up his eyebrows, a slight expression of concern on his features. "That so?"
"Yes," Tara hesitated but forced herself to speak. "If you would let him see one, or you could even take him to see yours…" She held her hands up in apology at the forming scowl on the Sanctuary leader's face. "I don't know. I just don't want him to die… Do you?"
Negan shrugged, inhaling deeply and then exhaling with a complacent sigh. "You mean to tell me that Rick, the ex-cop that led half of your sorry asses here through the shit that's out there, is so devastated about some bruised and broken hands that he might actually fucking die?" He laughed heartily. "Damn… What a fucking bitch."
Negan stifled a chuckle as he watched their faces go from anticipation to pure loathing. He pondered if he should actually do anything for their leader, or if he really was as bad off as they were making him out to be. Should he allow Rick the comfort of a doctor's healing hands, or make him tough it out? Were death's fingers truly curled around his scrawny, little neck?
"Where's he at?" Negan decided. "If he's truly going to lose his life because he can't jerk himself off anymore, I want to see it firsthand before I waste my time and resources."
Tara broke eye contact, her cheeks burning. She looked at the paneled side of the town infirmary, trying to come up with a quick answer. Rick was no longer in fear of losing his life; not anymore whereas before it did seem like he might. But it turned out that it had been exhaustion and shock more than anything that had left him bedridden and unconscious for those first few draining days after Negan's last visit. After his fourth day of rest, he'd rapidly began to regain his strength. He was still hurt, his hands immobile and bandaged, but Michonne might never forgive her if she took the slicked-back kingpin in to see him while he was still weak and vulnerable.
"We're not letting many people in to see him," Tara made up, hoping Negan would drop it and believe her.
"What, is it family only? He must not be that bad if you won't let me pay him a friendly fucking visit. That or you guys have stopped giving a shit." He glanced at Rosita, moving to stand in front of her. "I'm sure it's been rather hard on you all. Prick can't take care of his people when he can't use his hands, huh? Must be losing his touch."
Negan poked the middle of Rosita's forehead with a finger, and she stepped back, swatting at his hand viciously. Her face turned ten shades of red before she spun on her heel and stormed off down the road, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides. Negan shook his head, whistling low as his eyes followed her. He rolled them over to Eugene who stood rigid but watchful.
"Is she always that much of a bitch or does she just like me?"
"I believe her malignant disposition towards you is due to a deep-seated animosity that she feels for your metaphorical guts," Eugene blurted. "N-no offensive or…anything."
Tara covered her face with a hand as Negan laughed out loud, entertained.
"Tell you guys what," he said once he'd gathered himself, "I'll let this week's supplies slide."
Tara snapped her head up, shocked. "R-really?"
Negan shrugged in a good-natured way and smiled warmly. "Sure."
But she narrowed her eyes as he winked and strolled away.
Two trucks slowed to a stop in the parking lot, the men inside calculating their surroundings before exiting their vehicles. There were ten of them - more than usual - but this was a special visit. This wouldn't be a simple collection of their weekly tithe. They were also looking for two people who may have taken refuge here. Two people who had the potential to be dangerous if they fell into the wrong hands.
Gavin secured the rifle on his back and walked forward, not needing to glance at the armed men behind them. They'd brought the good artillery with them; the ostentatious and treacherous kind. There was a chance they wouldn't have to use them other than to showcase their power, but considering the circumstances, it was best to be ready at all times. Dwight had really fucked with everyone's head; led them to believe he was someone he really wasn't and that had caused a lot of suspicion amongst the Saviors. Who was still loyal? Who never had been in the first place? It made everyone a bit more careful.
"Your arrival is premature," stated a young man astride a reddish-brown mare. "May I inquire as to why?"
"Daniel! Nice to see you, too, bud. To answer your question, you may inquire, but that's about it." Gavin placed a hand on his hip and gestured to the walls in the distance. "Can we come inside?"
"No," Daniel replied matter-of-factly.
"And why the fuck not?" Gavin pressed.
"It is not my decision to make but my king's," Daniel revealed. "However, I shall request his appearance at this time."
The dusty-haired fellow turned his mare in the direction of the Kingdom. Gavin looked back to three of his men and inclined his head after the animal and its rider. The four Saviors began to follow the horse down the road when Daniel stopped suddenly, twisting in his saddle to look back at the quartet.
"You are not permitted to follow me," he strictly stated.
Gavin removed the rifle from his back, as did his men, and pointed his weapon at the rider's head. "Since you apparently aren't capable of makin' decisions, we just made it for you. Lead us."
"You are making a grave mistake."
"And we'll reap the consequences," Gavin retorted with a sarcastic smile. He jutted his gun in the direction of the Kingdom, urging the young man forward.
With a scowl, Daniel faced forward in his saddle and spurred his mare. She set off at a steady walk, leading the group of them to the entrance of King Ezekiel's land. He wasn't required to call out to anyone upon reaching the gates. Eyes were always on the road and surrounding area, so Daniel chose not to make a big fuss about those who were behind him. They had known the Saviors would turn up sooner rather than later, and twelve hours after the arrival of their runaways, here they were. Not quite on cue with what King Ezekiel had predicted, but close enough.
The doors open inward, revealing the sprawling town inside. This was a first for the Kingdom. Their land had never been tainted by the soles of their enemy; neither freely nor by force, but their king had insisted that they be let in should the request arise. So, without further ado, Daniel set Cinnamon to a trot, leaving behind the four Saviors by the door as he reached his ruler's lodgings. He dismounted quickly, and made his way inside.
"Your majesty." Daniel was out of breath, his tone urgent.
King Ezekiel sat on his throne, relaxed as he examined his nails. "So, they have arrived."
"Yes, your majesty. Inside of the walls."
The monarch looked at his soldier, a crease of worry on his forehead. The king had accounted for this possibility, but he had fervently wished it would not come to pass.
"Then I shall make my way into the daylight and greet our meddlesome guests." The king looked down to the right. "Shiva."
The lounging tiger looked up at her master, her large yellow-green eyes expanding in inquiry.
"Accompany me, my love."
As King Ezekiel rose, so did Shiva, heeling by his side in a sultry strut. She followed him, her intelligent eyes mindful of their surroundings. She saw many things she recognized, and the odors were the same as they always were. Nothing was out of the ordinary, nothing was new, until her master led her through the streets and she caught a whiff of something unfamiliar. At once, the Saviors stepped back as a low growl emanated from her throat, but a habitual stroke of her head set her at ease.
"His majesty, King Ezekiel!" Jerry announced to the four men and then stepped to the side.
Despite the intimidating presence of his tiger, the Kingdom ruler witnessed most of the men hiding their smiles or failing to stifle their laughter at the introduction. It did not bother him. Honestly, it gave him confidence. This façade he put on and the unconventional way of life he and his people lived was so peculiar that it almost made them invisible; a joke. There was no way they could have the wits to be involved in a mutiny. Not against a league as powerful as the Saviors…
"How may I serve you gentlemen?" The king queried. "Have my people not supplied you with your procurements?"
The older, graying man named Gavin took a step forward, a rifle rest on his forearm and his fingers near the trigger. "We haven't gotten that far yet."
"Why have you brought weapons into my home? Is there some sort of threat here?" King Ezekiel asked with masked worry.
Gavin pointed to an obedient Shiva. "No, just a precaution should anything spring up. Truth be told, I did not expect to see half the shit you have going on in here. I thought for sure it would be a bunch of loonies dressed up in costumes prancing around in circles, but everything seems pretty normal other than that fucking tiger."
"Sorry to lead you astray." King Ezekiel opened his arms in truce. "We do have to strive for our comforts. Do you not?"
"Not as much as you," Gavin smirked. "Speaking of which, we'll be taking our regular load once we check this place out. We've got two of ours missing, and while I'm sure they're not here, we just want to make certain." He paused. "No strangers have come around since late last night, have they?"
The king's dreaded head shook in refusal. "None to my knowledge."
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Ezekiel?" Gavin asked; an undertone of cynicism in his voice.
The polite smile that King Ezekiel wore threatened to crack, so he lifted it higher and let out a small chuckle. "I would not dare, sir. That would be unbecoming of a king."
"Well, then," Gavin nodded once, "this should be quick, Ezekiel. Just keep that damn tiger away from us."
At the snap of his fingers, Gavin's men trod off in separate directions and began to search the town. It took them over an hour to cover the town's grounds while King Ezekiel felt inclined to allow Gavin into his auditorium for a survey of his own. The lieutenant kept his rifle at the ready, constantly eyeing Shiva from the side and sometimes sending a Kingdomer into spots he felt were suspicious, but there was never a trap or any surprise tucked away in hiding. Once their business was concluded, and they felt there was nowhere else to check, the Savior collected their share of supplies and began trudging back to the gates with the king and his assembly.
"We appreciate your hospitality," Gavin thanked King Ezekiel. "Certainly for letting us come inside and see how things work in here for damn once."
"The pleasure is all mine," he smiled in veiled sarcasm.
Gavin took the walkie from his hip, pressing the button to speak. "Gavin to Negan. The Kingdom is clear. We'll be heading back up north shortly."
The walkie crackled on. "Update me if you find anything."
He placed the radio back on his buckle and faced his host one last time. "Before we trot on out of here, I've got one last request. I'm gonna need a couple of your people to supplement our loss. Nothing personal against you, just want to keep our numbers even."
The smile King Ezekiel adorned vanished quickly. "My people have naught to do with yours. They shall not suffer consequences of deeds beyond their making."
Gavin shrugged. "That's probably true, but we don't really care. Don't worry, though. Once the two we're looking for show up, you might get yours back. Might also be something extra special thrown in for you if you're the one who helps us find 'em. Keep that in mind."
The king couldn't answer, a glower forming where a once benign, if not forced, smile had been moments before. The head Savior waited a few seconds for the other to say the words that would get them going, but they never came.
"Any day now, Ezekiel. We've got bigger fish to fry and they're treading on dry land."
"Richard," the ruler instantly ordered. "Jorganna."
The duo by those names came forward, knowing full well what was implied by their king's summoning, but they waited obediently for his direct order to act.
"What is your oath to me?" He asked while keeping his eyes trained on the Savior before him.
"To serve you faithfully, your majesty," his soldiers replied.
"Would you deem this moment a testament of faith, my friends?" He finally made eye contact with them, lifting his eyebrows in inquiry.
"To its purest extent," Richard replied.
A boom vibrated the air, powerful and violent. The shock of a firing gun was never a sound some could get used to despite any anticipation, but after a few shots, it could grow more tolerable. The Kingdom soldiers didn't have much time to adjust as it only took seven rounds for them to cease, the air stifled with the acrid smoke of gunpowder and their ears ringing.
Shiva was a ginormous ball of charging energy, ready to pounce at the slightest movement. Everyone remained still, however, as three bodies littered the street, flooding it crimson and copper. King Ezekiel held out a hand palm down, fingers together and Shiva crouched.
Gavin stood wide eyed, disbelieving and confused as to what just happened. His mouth was agape as he registered his fellow Saviors on the ground, unmoving and silent.
"What the hell-?" He began, but a growl caused the end of his words to stick in his throat.
"Never underestimate a fool for his arrogance will always overestimate him."
King Ezekiel's hand balled into a fist and in that split second, Shiva was bounding into the air, her large paws descending onto her target as her sharp nails anchored him in place. Gavin's screams were visceral as he was ripped apart, the once skinny rivulets of red now evolving into frothing rivers of blood that pooled the asphalt. Distant shots were a melodious background noise as the devoured Savior's screams dwindled to gurgles, overcome by the disquiet of ripping flesh.
"Shiva," her master ordered, and she halted her feast; not quite satisfied, but biddable nonetheless.
Richard stalked over to the body, looking down at the dead open eyes without a hint of remorse. He aimed his gun and pulled the trigger, a single bullet hole opening the side of the dead man's forehead.
"Like shooting fish in a barrel."
"Guess they'll be late to their fish fry," Jesus said as he pulled a helmet off of his head, his long hair held back in a ponytail. He inhaled a lungful of fresh air.
King Ezekiel smirked at him before addressing his soldiers. "Make haste to the entrance and ensure all of our enemies have been neutralized; conceal the carnage and their accouterments."
As the Kingdom soldiers went about their tasks, Jesus headed up the street to a manhole cover, using a nearby crowbar to hoist it up and off of the access point to the Kingdom's underground passage. It was the same one Daryl and Everly had traversed when they first arrived and where they, along with Maggie and Sasha, had hidden during the impromptu visit of the Saviors. They climbed out of the hole, one at a time, relieved yet anxious.
"I never want to go down there again." Sasha took in a deep breath, willing her nerves to steady.
"Trust me, you'd rather be down there than up here witnessing what I just saw. It wasn't pretty," Jesus responded.
"Are they all dead?" Maggie asked, looking a short ways down the road at the small crowd of bodies lying on the ground. Multiple Kingdomers watched on as the soldiers began to drag them away.
"The ones in here are. Richard and a few others are making sure those who stayed outside are too."
"Are we sure Negan won't find out too soon?" Everly asked, clutching onto Daryl's right arm protectively.
"The bastard will find out sooner than we'll want 'im to." He looked down at her.
Jesus agreed. "But luckily the dumbass he sent in his place called in to him while he was still here. That bought us some time."
"Well, it's a good thing we're already prepared," Maggie observed and waved them all on. "Let's get moving. Time's a wastin'."
Daryl held Everly back as she started after the others and she gazed up at him questioningly.
"I want you to stay here," he said, anticipating the backlash he knew would come after his request.
Her eyebrows lowered in response. "No."
"Everly," Daryl warned, but she tried to yank out of his grasp unsuccessfully.
"You are not leaving me here," she argued.
"I don't want to leave you here, but I don't want you out there neither." He tightened his hold on her wrist to stop her from struggling to get away.
"Don't do this. Not now." Angry tears began to form in her eyes, and he pulled her into him, his fingers running gently in her hair as she hugged his waist.
"You two can stay here," Maggie said, startling Daryl. He hadn't noticed they'd stopped to wait for them.
"I wouldn't do that to y'all," Daryl refused, but the pregnant widow shook her head.
"You guys haven't even been out of that shithole for twenty-four hours yet. We'll get things started, rile up some feathers. You two rest before you join the fight. You're gonna need it."
Daryl hesitated, wanting to go with them but not wanting to abandon Everly either. He refused to let her accompany them, not when she was the safest she'd been in months. He wasn't going to risk the chance of losing her in exchange for the comfort of her staying by his side. Getting even with Negan didn't matter as much as that to him.
"You guys go on. We'll stay here," he finally made up his mind and Everly smiled up at him, pleased.
Maggie nodded with a smile of her own. "We'll be back hopefully some time tonight or tomorrow."
"Which reminds me," Jesus crossed his arms as he came up to Maggie's side, "shouldn't you be staying here, too?"
She mimicked his pose and stared him straight in the eye. "Are you discriminatin' against a pregnant woman?"
"Not discriminating," Jesus smirked, "looking out for. You'll thank me when you give birth to a screaming bundle of joy with all your limbs intact and your head still on your shoulders."
"This isn't what we discussed." Maggie's cheeks flushed in anger.
"And I apologize," Jesus said sincerely. "But Sasha and I aren't going to let you come either."
Maggie whipped around to face Sasha who looked slightly abashed but kept her head up high.
"It's what's best for you and the baby," she said, and Maggie scoffed.
"This is how you're goin' to treat me? You guys need me!" She threw her hands up.
"Alive," Jesus put his hand on her shoulders. "We're coming back for you, all of you. Let us handle the hard part first and then we'll be back. I promise."
"Fine," Maggie surrendered grumpily. "But you two better be back here by tonight or early tomorrow mornin'. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."
"Yes, ma'am," Jesus answered, and he and Sasha strode off to ready themselves to leave.
"It's for the best," Everly spoke softly, hoping to calm down her friend.
Maggie nodded, running a hand through her short hair, but the look of utter infuriation remained perfectly in place on her features.
"I can't stay here and do nothin'," Maggie said. Now it was her turn to get teary eyed.
"You're doing something now," Everly pointed out, untangling herself from Daryl to put a soothing hand on Maggie's arm. "You're taking care of you and your baby first. That's the most important thing. Everything else can wait."
She sniffled. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."
"Let's go rest," Everly told her and looked back at Daryl. "We still have a few plans to go over before they get back. The most specific one being how we're going to use all the shit Dwight brings back."
"Blow off some fucking heads is how," Maggie muttered as she trudged along with her friends to their rooms.
"How ya holdin' up, buddy?" Kai leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed as he watched the subject of his question struggling to get dressed.
"Just damn fine," Dwight snapped, wincing as he gingerly pulled his jacket sleeve up to his tender shoulder. He took a deep breath before standing up, his body practically throbbing all over from the small effort of getting dressed.
Kai smirked, laughing to himself. "Man, you've really fallen by the wayside and this thing has barely gotten started. Negan called this morning, wantin' some sort of update that I couldn't provide… He's hardboiled on findin' ya, and I can't decide whether to hang ya out to dry or…push you down harder in the mud."
"I fall, so do you." Dwight sighed silently through his nose as he holstered his weapons and made a point of no looking the other man in the eye. "Is he planning on coming here?"
"Not right away. He trusts me to do what's right."
Dwight snorted as a tense silence filled the room. He continued to get ready for the day as Kai watched him, both men growing annoyed with the other.
"Am I doin' what's right, Dwight?" Kai asked finally. There was an edge to his voice and hardness in his jaw that offset the casualness of his relaxed demeanor; a show of trying to appear calm when he was anything but.
Dwight shrugged his good shoulder, finally meeting the larger man's eye. "Whether you are or not, you made the decision. Whatever happens is on you, too."
He walked to the door to leave, but Kai blocked him, his large chest forming a barrier that Dwight had no ability to move even in an uninjured state.
"That don't sit too well with me," Kai's eyes burned.
"And how the fuck is that my problem?" Dwight came back heatedly. "You wanted to be a leader, demanded it from a source that had no means to give to you, but gave it to you anyway. I'm trying my best to hold up that promise, and you're not exactly making it easy on me here." Dwight sighed heavily, stepping back to take a deep breath. "We can't win this if we don't do it together. We won't get what we want and neither will you."
Kai studied him a few seconds, rolling his jaw from side to side. "I ain't dyin' for you, Dwight."
"You don't have to, but you aren't going to stand by while we die for you. That isn't the way this is going to work either."
The night before, Kai had lain awake, indecisive and restless as he contemplated Dwight's haphazard arrival. He'd gone over the situation in his mind a hundred times, examining it from all angles as he tried to find a narrative that best fit him. He could kiss this chance at being the sole commander goodbye and turn Dwight into Negan, or throw him out to fight his own war, weaponless. He could help him out like he said he would, provide him with what was promised but stay on the sidelines, obscure. Setting him up was another option, leaving Kai to kill two birds with one stone. That would be an even bigger mess to clean up, but it had the potential to turn coal into diamonds... In the end, there were many conclusions he could see going his way and there were others that he didn't. He wasn't a man that liked to give up; however, he also wasn't stubborn enough to keep going when the disadvantages outweighed the benefits. His leadership and ruthlessness might be a mirror image of Negan's, but his sense of self-importance was much more inflated.
"Hey," came Trevor's voice from behind Kai's back. He stepped to the side to let the smaller guy into the room. "Some of Negan's trucks are here."
"Fuck," Dwight mumbled, running a hand through his hair.
"I'll take care of it." Kai gave Dwight a lingering stare. "Why don't ya two stay up here and, oh, I don't know, not fuck things up for a change? Yeah?"
He rolled his eyes as he left the room and stomped down the hallway, to the stairwell, and down to the main floor. His guards had already opened the gates to let Negan's trucks through, so they had nearly made it to the front of the grand hotel before he reached the lobby doors. He waited and watched them by pass the parking lot and roll through the awning that covered the concrete driveway, his heart racing a hundred beats per minutes as the caravan parked in front of him.
What's the decision, boss? He asked himself. Play it by ear, knucklehead. But be smart about it. A huge part of him really wanted to see this through despite its sloppy start.
Kai squinted his eyes, the sky bright but slightly overcast. It was a warm day and not too hot; basically perfect weather for enjoying the outdoors, but couple it with his rising anxiety and there were sure to be sweat stains on his undershirt by the time the sun went down.
The doors opened and people with guns exited each vehicle. People he didn't recognize. His eyes narrowed further as a long-haired, bearded man approached him, a forthcoming smile on his young face. He held out his hand as he approached Kai.
"Uh, hello. My name is Jesus. You must be Kai?"
Kai stayed a statue, looking over the guy who just introduced himself and the people he was with. There was clear confusion on his face as his blue eyes scuttled from one face to the next as well as to the weaponry they openly carried with them.
"The fuck you say your name was?" He asked, meeting Jesus' gaze again.
"My real name is Paul, but I go by Jesus." He dropped his unfilled hand. "I'm sure the reason must be obvious."
"You work for Negan?"
"No," Jesus smiled wider with a short chuckle. "We're here for Dwight, and to meet you."
Kai's eyebrows lifted in surprised. How did they get so many of Negan's trucks? He knew Dwight had taken three, but only one had survived after last night's ordeal. Had something bigger already happened?
He shifted back, moving aside to allow his guests entry. "After me."
They all crowded into the conference room as Dwight and his men sneaked down to meet with them, avoiding as many Somerset residents as possible. That hadn't been too hard to accomplish when they'd first arrived in the dead of night, but the daytime was a bit more difficult. Luckily, a few Kingdomers remained in the lobby as well as outside to survey the grounds which was just the distraction the former Saviors had needed to make it to the ground floor undetected. Some of the Somerset soldiers were confused and on edge. They hadn't seen these people before, but they came in Negan's trucks and carried his weapons. They didn't question their leader, choosing to trust Kai's judgment. Only those who had been torn from their home knew who they were, but discretion was the word, not to mention survival. So, they ducked down their heads and went on about their business along with the other soldiers; all of them but one.
"Who are those people?" Tricia stopped a lone guard, indicating down the hall to the conference room with a tip of her chin.
"The Saviors. They're having a meeting with Kai," he informed her.
"Why wasn't I notified?" She demanded.
The guard swallowed. "We were advised not to."
Tricia lowered her eyebrows and glanced down the hallway once more. She saw two armored soldiers standing on either side of the conference door. They were not people she'd ever seen before and she'd never known the Saviors to wear any visible armor, if any.
"You're dismissed."
The soldier started off down the hall before she changed her mind and called him back, meeting him halfway as he walked over to her.
"Keep your eyes out for these people. I'm not sure what Kai is doing with them, but something is off. Get Liam and Warner to help scope them out and update me if you find anything suspect."
"Will do," the guard nodded and headed off to his assignment.
The second-in-command turned back around and contemplated introducing herself to the assemblage, but ultimately thought better of it. She was going to do some snooping of her own and find out as much as she could. Kai had been acting weird lately, becoming more distant with her and secretive. She'd been suspicious of him, but she couldn't quite place a finger on a reason why. This was her red flag. Something definitely wasn't right here and she was going to find out why.
I sat on the bed, drying my hair and relaxing my muscles as best as I could. The warm bath had helped release the soreness and tension out of my limbs, but I was still stiff in some places which didn't help to alleviate any of my old injuries. I didn't mind the pain so much, however. King Ezekiel allowed us some aspirin to take off the edge, and I was looking forward to a much needed nap before things went to shit. Daryl and I especially needed our strength for what was going to come next and my heart rate spiked just thinking about it.
The door opened suddenly, startling me as I sat straight up, wide eyed. It was Daryl, coming in with only a towel around his waist after taking a bath of his own. His body was black and purple, red welts covering any place bruises didn't. My chest nearly caved in looking at him, but admiration filled it back up instantly. He was so strong, so capable. I would never be able to withstand what he had these few months; these last couple of weeks. I'd been through my own hell but Daryl had taken on much worse. He was everything I wanted to be.
"Hey," he smiled softly as he shut the door and went to the dresser where fresh clothes lay waiting for him.
I said nothing and stood up, padding over to him as he faced away from me. I ran gentle fingertips over his back, tracing his scars and wounds; a tattoo on his shoulder. Goosebumps formed on his skin where I touched and he shivered, catching my hand in his as he turned to look down at me.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, swallowing down a lump. "You shouldn't have had to endure this… Not for me."
He cupped my cheek. "There ain't nothing to be sorry about. We're in this together. I've bled for you 'n you've bled for me."
"It shouldn't be that way, though," I replied, the guilt still heavy on me.
"I wish it wasn't," he replied sincerely. "But I wouldn't change it for anything else. Not when it means I get to have you."
I smiled at him, feeling entirely grateful to have him in my life as well. We might have found each other eventually, but our shared abduction had definitely expedited our relationship. I would always look back on those several months in the Sanctuary as some of the worst I'd experienced since the world went dark, but I would always find the light that Daryl had radiated during those cold moments. His had been the brightest I'd ever seen.
"I love you," I told him, standing up on the balls of my feet to kiss him.
"Love you, too," he murmured against my lips.
He held me close, his skin still damp but warm through the oversized button up shirt I wore. His mouth moved against mine, slow but wanting and I wanted him too. The next few days were going to be unpredictable, and once the fighting started, there was no telling who would come out of it whole or alive. It didn't want to go through with it. There was this cowardly part of me that wanted to take Daryl's hand and run, never looking back. But neither of us would abandon those we cared about, no matter how scared we were.
Abruptly he pulled away, something evidently on his mind as he avoided my gaze. I frowned, trying to read his thoughts, but I couldn't get through to them.
"What's wrong?" I asked, worried.
He didn't speak, clearly working out what words he wanted to use but failing to find the ones he wanted. He sighed, turning his head to look out the window before his eyes gazed down at me from the side.
"I don't want to rush you, Everly," he said, and I furrowed my brows further, confused.
"What do you mean?"
He gripped my hips, tugging on them gently before he answered. "He videotaped you."
My eyes widened, not fully understanding what he was saying but inferring things I didn't want to be true.
"He brought me the tape, wanted me to watch it…but I couldn't." His chest hitched. "He raped you, Everly."
My heart was pounding in my ears. I knew the words he was speaking, but I couldn't hear them. I felt a tingling all over my skin and it weighed me down, like I was drunk without having had a drink. I didn't know how to respond.
"He…He video…"
"I smashed the fuckin' thing," Daryl butted in, holding my face in both of his hands. "I destroyed it, okay? It's alright."
He kissed my forehead, but I felt lightheaded and weak. What did he mean, Negan videotaped me? Videotaped what? Nothing had happened. Nothing. There wasn't anything to videotape other than him being a persistent creep.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said monotonously. "He never raped me."
Daryl was confused now. "He showed me."
"You just said you couldn't watch it, that you destroyed it." I was hanging onto those facts. "He was lying. There wasn't anything on that tape."
"Everly," Daryl said, not seeming to be convinced but not wanting to argue against me.
"It's true," I persisted, my eyes beginning to sting.
"Okay," he said, hugging me again and holding my head to his shoulder.
After the buzzing sound left my ears and I regained myself, I pulled away to meet his eyes.
"You believe me, don't you?"
Daryl ran a single hand through my damp hair. "Yes."
His face was straight, no hint of dishonesty in his eyes, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't. I might not if I were in his shoes either.
"Make love to me," I said, pulling away to yank him toward the bed.
"Everly." He resisted halfheartedly as he stumbled after me.
I grabbed the towel around his waist and his hand was on mine in an instant, holding it in place.
"Slow down," he reasoned.
I looked up at him with pleading eyes. "I don't know how much time we have left with each other. I don't want our last moments alone to be like this. I want it to be us enjoying ourselves, not crying over what we can't change or what never happened. I want to be with you."
He didn't move for a while, staring down at me as he considered the next move to make. He wanted me, I could feel as much through the towel, but he was being too solicitous; not wanting to hurt me. I let go of the towel, not wanting to pressure him either, and if he pushed me away again, I would stop. But I would try one last time and hoped to get the response both of us wanted – needed.
I pecked his cheek lingeringly as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself against him. Slowly, I moved toward his mouth and his hands found my waist, inching up my back. When my lips met his, they moved softly, patiently, and he responded immediately, matching my gentle movements with his own.
My hands ran over his shoulders and down to his biceps as our kiss deepened, and I moved backward, guiding us to the edge of the bed. Our mouths still locked, I put one leg on the mattress and then the other, goading him with my hands to step closer. My fingers ran over his stomach, descending to the cotton towel around his hips. I hesitated, waiting for him to stop me, but when he didn't, I tugged on the cloth until it loosened and fell to the floor.
I broke from him, catching his eyes with my own as I felt for him. He was stiff, the flesh warm and pulsing, and he inhaled sharply as my palm began to shift up and down. I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing as we held eye contact. I liked watching him, seeing his eyelids starting to droop and his mouth beginning to hang open as his breathing increased. It made me feel sexy and in control; secure.
I bent down, craving more of him, and I caught the reddened tip of his glistening head between my lips, flicking my tongue over the slit. He bucked gently, shifting forward as he sank deeper into my mouth with a fist in my hair and I welcomed him completely, finally satisfied. With one hand, I held his hip as the other worked in correspondence with my mouth, occasionally dipping down to massage the rounded, firm flesh underneath.
His moans filled the room, causing a wet tightness to contract between my bare thighs. I imagined him inside of me as I maintained a steady rhythm with my mouth, willing myself to bring him in deeper with each stroke. It wasn't an easy feat, but I focused on my breathing, and when he hit the back of my throat, he quickly withdrew.
"I won't last much longer," he admitted, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.
I unbuttoned the top of my shirt and pulled it off of me, throwing it to the side. I grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the bed, forcing him to sit on the edge while I straddled his hips. He grabbed my thighs as I kissed him. I hadn't dressed all the way after bathing, which I was infinitely thankful for as my patience completely broke once I felt his length against me. I couldn't wait anymore.
With a tilt, I lifted up and sat on him, pushing myself entirely down on him in one go. I sighed heavily into his open mouth, my fingers digging into his hair as I started to rock against him, eager and desperate.
"Daryl," I moaned his name and bit his lip.
He kissed me in fervor, bucking his hips up as mine came down and wrapping an assisting arm around my waist. I wasn't far from where I needed to be, but Daryl seemed to be reaching his sooner as he crushed me to his chest, moving me up and down on top of him faster. It was a race both of us wanted to win, but I'd given him a head start.
When he started to push me off, I held onto him tightly, preventing him.
"No," I groaned as I sat flush against him.
He convulsed then, his pelvis snapping up into mine in quick jerks as he growled low in his throat. I followed quickly after, reveling in the feeling of him throbbing inside of me. I panted against his lips as I rode out my high, pulsing and wishing this moment could last longer. Quaking over him, my hips slowed to a stop and I rested my forehead on his as I caught my breath.
Daryl swallowed thickly as his breathing began to slow. He pulled back a bit to look at me, his eyes glazed over but concerned.
"Why'd you do that?"
"I don't know," I answered, avoiding his gaze. "I just wanted to. I'm sorry."
His thumb ran in circles on my ribs, and he didn't express any disappointment. He placed his lips against my temple and nuzzled into me, which I took to mean he forgave my careless transgression. But the truth was that I had done it on purpose. If it all ended tomorrow, I needed for him to be the one I felt inside of me.
Edited by Nightperidot.
It is here! This is a pretty long one. The longest I've ever written. I usually stop my chapters between 10 and 12 pages and this chapter is 21 pages. So, it's basically two chapters in one. I'm going to do the same for the next one which I will strive to post on this upcoming Monday. Fingers crossed.
To my guest reviewer, thank you, and I hope the end of this chapter was all that you wished for. I got you, fam. (I'd planned on it anyway, haha.)
Thank you all!