Chapter 65
Amongst the many that stood on the darkened road, King Ezekiel stuck out like a sore thumb, all gallant in his robes with a giant, vicious cat by his side. He didn't quite look the part of a king heading into battle, but the assault rifle strapped to his back asserted otherwise. His face was hard with a vertical crease of anxiousness between his brows as he approached us.
"Shiva is thirsty for vengeance, my warriors. Lead the way and we will dutifully follow."
"Aw," Jesus cooed and bent down with his hands on his knees. "You ready to use those cute murder mittens of yours again, Shiva?"
King Ezekiel chuckled darkly. "She undoubtedly is. I fear the taste of warm blood upon her tongue will be the only remedy."
I gazed at the tiger, feeling a shiver of fear creep over me. She gazed around the group, her eyes piercing but curious. I didn't sense any malevolence from her. Not at this moment, at least.
"Alright, then," Jesus replied humorously. "Let's get this shit show started."
"Your men are staying behind?" I asked King Ezekiel for confirmation.
"Half and half, as was wished," he affirmed.
I nodded and took in a deep, nervous breath. "Good."
We had decided that not everyone needed to strike Alexandria. Not right away. A large portion of our hands would stay back, watching the roads and covering us from behind. Earlier, the five of us had come to the conclusion that Negan would have left a nicely sized group behind, but not big enough that we needed more than a dozen armed men with us. We would go in with small numbers looking for a fair enough fight. The only difference was we had the indulgence of a surprise attack.
"We sticking to the original plan?" Jesus spoke to Daryl.
"Yeah, it's our only way in." He adjusted the rifle in his arms, keeping it pointed to the ground. "Sasha will have the lookouts in sight with her sniper-"
"And you will sneak over the wall," Sasha added in a gusto of adrenaline. "They won't notice you, hopefully, but my finger will be on the trigger, ready to shoot."
"As soon as you're in, find Michonne and the others, give 'em the guns. While you guys start it from the inside, we'll join in from the outside," Daryl continued.
Jesus smirked. "Boy, won't this be fun?"
I patted his shoulder. "You've got this."
"A kiss on the cheek for good luck?" His gloved finger tapped the smooth curve of his cheekbone.
I gave him a quick peck and a smile. He returned it with a wink as he gazed at Daryl.
"One more to spare?" He asked him, pointing to the other side of his face.
Daryl glared. "Get on with it, asshole."
Jesus shrugged with a disappointed grin. "Worth a shot."
"Get out of here." Sasha smacked his shoulder lightheartedly as he jogged off to his position, the bag of guns weighing him down on one side.
"He'll be okay," I reassured her as the smile slowly drained from her face. I looked around at everyone else. "Let's move forward. Quickly and quietly."
Stealth wasn't as innate as I imagined it would be. Our footfalls were a cacophonous parade; a Fourth of July celebration without the fireworks and excitement. I chalked it up to paranoid delusion as no one else mentioned or seemed to mind the strident treading, and it probably didn't matter as what we hunted wasn't within earshot; they couldn't hear out footsteps through the steel walls of the town unless they weren't inside of it.
As we got closer, Sasha branched off with a glance of fortune from us. She wisped into the trees like a shadow with not even a parting rustle of the leaves around her. She moved like a specter, silent but attentive, and I knew she watched somewhere in those stygian woods, an armed guardian angel at our backs. And we trekked forward; a group of loaded men and women ready to break our tether to this world for a chance at making it stronger. Stooping to a crouch and slowing our pace, our once loud footsteps were now soft whispers deafened by the sky's fluttering breath. The rising apprehension in my chest was almost at a crescendo, but I let my limbs tremble, vibrating out the terror and pulling in determination to fill the space left behind. This was it.
We stopped just before the main road, scattering around like mice in a darkened room in search for choice hiding spots. I was glued to Daryl's side and King Ezekiel was to mine as his loyal pet was to his. I glanced at the tiger, curious and marveling at the display of her expert training. King Ezekiel had taught her well; a true example of master and companion if I ever saw such a couple. I was almost excited to see how she would react to the violence- excited and terrified- but the sight of a dark and glistening pool of blood was a vivid prelude for what I knew was bound to happen. I wasn't keen on the thought of watching a person being ripped apart, but maybe it wouldn't come to that. Or maybe I'd be too busy killing myself to notice.
Can you do this? I asked myself. Could I kill someone in cold blood? Aim the gun, pull the trigger, knowing it would be the last thing that person experienced? Could I flip open my pocket knife and plunge it into someone's flesh like I was cutting into a chicken breast? Would it come to me that easily? I maybe would say yes if my life were in peril, if I hadn't been the one to start the fight, but tonight would be on our hands. This was our destruction, our chance at taking back, but at the cost of what? More death and misery… Would it be worth it in the end?
"Okay," Jesus' hushed whisper startled me. He was crouched low, scuttling towards us so naturally it was like he'd learned to walk that way first. "I'm going to circle around. I spotted two sentries atop the wall and two men outside of the gate. They've got a vehicle blocking the entrance as well." He waved a hand in the air as he continued. "There's some sort of fucking ditch or moat around the first half of the wall, so I'm going in farther out than I expected, but that shouldn't be a problem. It might actually be better; less of a chance of being seen."
Daryl edged closer. "Whadda we do about them blockin' the gate?"
"Maggie's already on it with some of her Hilltop people. Once we start from the inside, Sasha will take out the two on look out. Maggie's people will hit those on the ground. From there, it shouldn't be too hard to get inside, but be wary. Once they hear those gates opening, they'll starting firing after you."
"Duly noted, brave soldier," King Ezekiel replied with reserved delectation. "I believe I have just the weapon to astound our enemies long enough to retrieve the upper hand." He petted Shiva's head and a low purring began from deep with her chest.
Jesus nodded with approval. "She'd sure as shit take me off guard at first. Every second counts."
"Then let's not waste anymore time," I said. "Negan has to know something is up by now."
Jesus didn't say anymore, but whisked off in the same way he'd come to us. He was fast and agile, and I was deeply envious at the showmanship of his athleticism.
"Do you think the usurper is aware of our coup?" The king asked me.
I met his eyes. "He has to be. Dwight and company have been going at it for a few hours now. There's no way he's not aware of something going on."
"He knows it's us. Too much of a fuckin' coincidence that we all got away and suddenly his outposts are being blown new assholes left and right," Daryl agreed.
I pondered that, wondering how Negan was reacting to the news. We'd left most of the walkies at the Kingdom, but a few remained with the group garrisoning the street. The last we'd heard, Dwight had made a big dent in hitting the outposts, but there was no mention of a certain group attacking from the outside. It had all been vague, frantic cries for help. One could easily assume they were overcome by walkers, but that seemed too unproblematic. Negan knew there was something more. That's why we needed to do this quickly and stay on our toes lest we were the ones who were surprised.
"Keep in mind he's still out there searching. If he catches wind something is happening here, this is where he'll come," I said.
"Then we shall keep our adversary absorbed in battle. Should we notice one reporting however…" King Ezekiel cocked one brow at us.
"I'll take care of it," I promised, but swallowed past the fear of doing so.
Will you?
A single gunshot sliced the air; a lone, resounding birdcall of the sort that I wished to never hear again, but realized I always inevitably would until the day I died. The air around us hushed. No crickets chirped and the wind took a brief hiatus. We were left with nothing but suspended silence and I strained my ears for any other source of noise beyond the recent anamnesis of a firing gun. I sought Daryl's face for comfort, wanting to see that he had anticipated this as a possibility, but he looked grim.
They shot him. They shot him down. The terror-stricken and paranoid part of me was clawing its way to the surface. It's all over. They saw Jesus and now they're going to find you. He's going to find you.
"Daryl," I whispered but it sounded more like a whimper. He grabbed my hand as I was searching for his, crushing my fingers in his palm.
A chorus began; a choir so loud and discordant that it grated on my ears and tweaked my nerves, but I was simultaneously relieved. What an odd reaction to a gun fight, but that's what I felt. It told me that Jesus had succeeded and the Alexandrians were now fighting back. We were doing this.
I heard Sasha's shots, clear and direct like a bell. There were only two, so I knew she'd hit both of her targets the first time. I wanted to wait for her, but Maggie and her soldiers had already sprung from their hiding spots, shooting down the sentries stationed at the gate.
"That's our cue," Daryl said, his tone much louder now. We stood, my knees weak with anxiety, but my muscles pumped through with adrenaline. I felt King Ezekiel at my side, his heat radiating off like a flame in the dead of winter. I was attracted to that heat, protected by it, like a moth finds repose next to a flame. I wanted him to take the lead, put Daryl and me behind him, so I grabbed Daryl's elbow, indicating that King Ezekiel should go first to allow Shiva the first appearance inside.
"Open the gate!" The king commanded his soldiers and they ran to the contorted entryway, pulling it open with reddening faces.
We kept back, dodging the predicted gunfire that ricocheted past Alexandria's borders. The soldiers retreated after a split second; leaving the gateway partially opened, but the ingress was just so that we could fit through perfectly without a hitch. Well, if it wasn't currently being shot through, that is.
"Shiva." I heard King Ezekiel's deep soothing voice cooing at his beloved pet. "Now is the hour to muster the innate bravery that comes so naturally to a brilliant beast like you. You are my shield, my weapon. My warrior spirit duels alongside you. Be our heroine and forge a path in blood, my darling. Bring us justice!"
Shiva roared, her throat vibrating powerfully and her eyes determined as if she knew the exact words her master had just spoken to her. She turned at once and bounded to Alexandria's entrance, King Ezekiel close at her heels. The two disappeared inside in a whir of silk coattails and fur. I gave Daryl a bewildered look, one he returned briefly before a shriek of utter terror broke our gazes and propelled us through her walls and into the fight.
I glanced around in stupefaction at the sight of Shiva ripping into one man and then diving onto a second, of King Ezekiel laughing maniacally as he shot boisterously at the Saviors and egged on his pet, and of my old friends fighting with him…and winning. Daryl ripped me to the side and behind a stationed vehicle. He pushed me down low, almost to a sitting position as he hovered over me. Bullets whizzed past and I wondered just how many men Negan had left behind for the fighting to go on for so long, but I soon realized it must have been only a few minutes since the start; it seemed like an eternity so far.
Daryl kept a hand on my chest, holding me back and he scooted over the grill of the truck to peer past its edge. He watched momentarily before swinging his rifle up, aiming, and shooting. Being so close, I started at the sudden noise, covering my ears as pain ripped through them, but a complete feeling of uselessness overcame me. I squatted here like a coward, doing nothing but observing. That wouldn't help us win anything.
While Daryl remained preoccupied, I decided to sidle to the right and cover the other side of the vehicle, drawing the P229 from my satchel. I held it in both hands, my finger hovering over the trigger like I was taught to do, but my palms were slick and the gun felt so heavy. At any moment, I was going to be surprised and the perfect aim I pictured myself shooting with would be nothing but total frightened miscalculation.
Stop being a pussy, I scolded myself, but I feared my reaction. It's easy to fantasize how you might react in a situation such as this one, but being thrust into one is an entirely underestimated and unprepared for experience.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly to center myself, and peered around the headlight of the truck. At first I saw nothing. Just Alexandria's dim steel wall highlighted with random bursts of gunfire that shone off of the metal, but then I saw him; a thin, young man with long, dark hair ducking behind the right end of the truck and firing his weapon. I pointed mine at him, ready to shoot but finding myself unwilling to pull the trigger.
You can do this! I screamed on the inside.
He doesn't even know I'm here! I argued with myself.
Fuck that! He'd shoot you without hesitation. Pull. The damn. Trigger!
"I'm not him," I inhaled deeply, resolute. "I'm not a coward."
No, but you're fucking stupid.
"Drop it or I'll shoot!" I yelled.
The lanky man froze but then instantly whipped around to face me, the barrel of his gun aiming at my head. I ducked as he pulled the trigger and heard the bullet whiz by. I cursed myself with a brutish force.
That's what you get for being a bleeding fucking heart, you dumbass.
"Drop your weapon and I won't kill you… Everly," was his response.
I struggled for a reply. I glanced sparingly at Daryl who was still shooting from his side of the truck, apparently deaf to what was happening behind him. Only a moment had passed, but I'd already gotten myself into so much trouble. Typical.
"Your boyfriend must be with you, too, huh?" The man taunted. "I can't imagine he's not too far away. Should I look for him? Put him down? Maybe if you surrender I'll kill him quickly."
I rounded the corner of the truck again, angry and keeping my gun thrust out in front of me. The other man yanked his up as I reappeared, his eyes warning me that he did not want to shoot me but he would.
"Put it on the fucking ground," he said evenly.
"Fuck you." I narrowed my eyes. "We're taking our town back, but we don't have to kill each other. We can find common ground here."
He laughed. "She says as her friends slaughter mine. I don't fucking think so, missus. Negan wants you back and your boy toy dead. When I hand the both of you over to him, he'll give me so much more than any bullshit compromise you can pull out of your ass right now."
"He's not giving you a future. We can." I licked my lips, trying to wet my dry mouth. I felt sweat starting to moisten my forehead, but I refused to blink.
"I beg to differ." He tipped his head to my Sig Sauer and laughed again, the sounds of gunfire and screams validating his discredit. "Without him, there is no future."
He started forward, but I jutted my gun at him, placing my finger on the trigger.
"Don't!" I warned. "Don't take another step or I'll shoot."
But he didn't listen and he didn't say another word. His eyes were dark orbs, sucking in everything around him. He lunged for me and I heard the ear-splitting pop, felt the metal jerk in my hands as my finger pulled the trigger. I was stunned at first, thinking I had been the one who'd been shot, but as the two of us stared at one another I saw blood spill from his mouth and down his chin. His arms had dropped from the initial shock, but once he realized what had been done, his eyes suddenly blank and scared, he lifted his gun again and aimed at me.
Without blinking, a clamoring ring of an assault rifle above my head deafened me and I watched with squinted eyes as the once alive but now dead man fell backward, pocketed with holes. Daryl yanked me up from the ground, pinning me against the side of the large truck with his chest as he glared angrily down at me. I sheepishly returned his stare, unable to say or do anything, but then the anger was overcome by relief as he pulled me into his arms.
"Are ya okay?" He demanded.
"Y-yeah," I stuttered.
"Next time, don't stop shootin' until the son of uh bitch is dead. He coulda killed you," he cautioned and promptly looked around. Right now wasn't the time to become distracted. "Stay right by me." He grabbed my arm and crouched, stepping over the Savior's oozing corpse and pulling me to the tail end of the truck.
He observed the fighting, shooting now and then, but after a moment he stood up and I followed his movements. I could tell he wanted to maneuver around, become more centralized in the fight, but I was holding him back like an anchor; keeping him in place. I didn't want that, but there was no point in distracting him to argue.
"We've got most of them," he said, not looking at me. "Some are still fighin' back, but they won't be for long. They're out numbered now."
I didn't respond, feeling too meek and stupid to. I was ashamed, I will admit. Like a child who does something wrong when they knew they could have made a better choice before acting out in the first place. But did I make the wrong decision? Whether morally or justly? It was my life or his, but I gave that man a chance to live. That's what had mattered to me, but to Daryl it had been reckless, and I suppose I couldn't blame him. It was.
"C'mon." He took my hand. His grip was strong, stronger than how he usually held it, but I knew he was just scared. Scared and upset with me.
We came from around the truck and my eyes drifted from one body to the next. Most of them I didn't know, didn't really recognize any of them at all, but I saw a few who I did; both from our side and the Saviors.
"Oh, Olivia," I mourned, spotting her body among the many, eyes wide open and lifeless.
Going in this battle, I was fully prepared to lose people I cared about and loved. Casualties were a given in war, but it still hurt. It was a raw wound being ripped open before it had barely begun to heal, and my eyes clouded, a thick mist blurring my vision. I blinked them away, setting my face to stone.
"We've got them all," Maggie panted as she approached, covered in grime and blood. "Those who aren't dead are being rounded up."
"Holy shit, you held your own during this," Jesus complimented her.
"Told you I could," she said.
"You can't blame me for being a little cautious." He patted her belly.
"What was that solitary shot?" Daryl asked him.
"Oh, that. That was me being a bit too generous."
"One of the Saviors saw us while we were arming ourselves and acted promptly," Michonne clarified, walking over to our small group.
Jesus smirked at her. "He wasn't a very good shot, was he?"
She lifted up her sword, displaying the crimson coated metal and observing it almost lovingly. "Hard to shoot straight when you no longer have a head." Her smile was small and tired but warm. "I almost didn't believe it when I heard you two had escaped, but I should've known no one could keep Daryl Dixon locked up for too long."
She patted his bicep appreciatively and he pulled her into a hug.
"You can cage a beast but that won't make it loyal," he replied.
My lips lifted briefly as she looked at me and took my hands. "Thank you, Everly, for what you did for Carl. Without you…" She broke off, swallowing down the thickness that choked her voice.
"I would do it again in a heartbeat."
Her arms were a vice around me, crushing me to her chest. I gasped as the air vacated my lungs, but I hugged her back as tightly as I could.
"Is everyone okay?" We turned to the sound of Sasha's voice. She was out of breath, coming to a jogging stop in front of us.
"Mostly. We lost a few of our own..," Jesus answered and looked around morosely. "As for the Saviors…"
"They got fucked!" Carl exclaimed.
I looked to my left, spotting the lanky teen with a rifle slung to his back. Rick, Tara, Rosita, Aaron, and a few other Alexandrians were at his heel. All of the struggles of today and yesterday faded as I saw them all alive and unhurt. The tears I had attempted to dismiss before progressed down my face, and while these were less sorrowful, I quickly wiped them away.
Carl beamed when he saw us. "I fucking knew you guys would make it out of that hellhole!"
I hugged him tightly and Daryl threw an arm around the kid after, shaking his body with a strong hug. Rosita was next and then Tara. As I stepped up to Rick, I noticed the bloodied wrappings on his hands and I felt a deep, physical ache in my chest thinking about what Negan had done to him. I was enticed to embrace him, but in one of those rare moments since I had known him – just like that first night in the woods that seemed an eternity ago - I felt like he was too fragile to touch. The decision was made for me, though, as he put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him. He felt the same yet smaller somehow.
"It's nice to have ya back," he told me, his voice gentle and soft.
"It's wonderful to be back," I reciprocated, holding him gingerly before letting go. He gazed at Daryl.
The two didn't exchange words as they hugged. It was a long, brotherly embrace that probably meant more to the both of them than any amount of verbal exchange would have. I watched with warmth in my heart, thoroughly thankful for this moment. We were surrounded by death but through that we had been reunited, and what counted most was staying together. We had gone through hell and now we were marching right back through it side-by-side, looking for a fight and finding one easily. The hard part would be staying alive.
"He took Eugene," Rick said out of the blue. "He came here lookin' for you and took him when he didn't find ya."
"Dammit," Sasha cursed softly, turning away and rubbing her face.
"It's okay," Rosita said. "He's resilient and smart. He'll find a way to survive."
"Not if we destroy the damn place with him inside of it." Sasha threw a hand up and let it fall to smack her thigh.
"He'll be fine," Rick assured. "I believe that. He'll be Negan's bartering chip, I'm sure. But even if we attack, he'll know what to do."
We were silent for a moment before Tara asked, "Will we attack?"
Rick thought for a moment, but Maggie spoke up for him. "Dwight's plannin' on bring a horde of walkers down on the Sanctuary. He should have them there by early mornin', I'm predictin'." She spoke to Rick. "He followed through on everything; gave us these guns. He's why we have our home back."
The Alexandrian leader nodded, his look grim as he then shook his head. It was what he wanted, but the price for winning it back was a hefty one to pay. "I was hopin' he would. I'm glad I gave him a chance." He inhaled and looked around at all of us. "We'll wait on his word and secure things here… Dig graves for our dead."
"And the Saviors?" Jesus asked.
Rick paused, his eyes skimming the ground. "Question the ones who're still alive and keep them locked up. As for the ones that are dead… Throw 'em outside in the moat. When Negan comes, and he will, he'll see that we can use dead bodies to make a barrier, too."
As he stood there in his office, his most trusted lieutenants quiet and waiting for instruction, Negan wondered where the hell he had exactly gone wrong. What decision had it been? What had been his mistake? But he felt like a complete ass for even asking himself that. He'd made no mistake. They had, and they would know it soon enough once they were on their asses with his knee pressed down on their goddamns throats. The geyser that was frothing inside of him, it was boiling fucking over, spewing like a goddamn kettle forgotten on high heat. It hadn't blown quiet yet, but oh man, was it whistling. His rage was that intense, and the heat that came from it was radiating, and his men felt it, too. It was contagious.
"What's the fucking E.T.A. on all of our patrols?" He asked.
"Gary and his group are back, so are Arat's, Dillon's, and Laura's," Simon informed with crossed arms. "Gavin isn't responding and neither are the rest."
Negan grimaced, grinding his teeth together. "And the outposts?"
"Ten are off grid, most of them north, but a few are south of there. Others we think may be under threat are still active but not all of them responding. We've instructed those still in contact to fortify their posts and be on high alert. They're sending us hourly updates."
"Make it every half hour," Negan directed, perturbed. "And I want some goddamn information on what the hell is going on out there!"
"We're figuring it out, boss," one of his men said.
Simon sighed, reluctant on sharing a bit of information he had. He wasn't sure how well Negan would take it, and frankly, it didn't make a whole lot of sense to him, but it was the only thing they had to go on. "One outpost was able to relay some information to me before they blacked out."
Negan raise irate eyebrows. "Which is?"
"A horde. They're pushing south. It's the one Dwight supposedly was going to take care of…" Simon paused. "I believe he's the one leading them back."
"What?" His leader demanded, his eyes bulging. "Someone saw that dickless cunt?"
Simon shook his head, biting his tongue. "No, I'm assuming. The pattern of movement for the dead is usually one-tracked, but receptive. They'll usually move in the same direct unless distracted-"
"I'm aware of how those dead fucks maneuver," Negan snapped. He had Lucille in hand, bouncing her in the air in short swings; up-down-up-down-up-down.
"I'm just saying," Simon continued more cautiously. "They wouldn't have turned around autonomously unless something prevented them from staying straight, or they were distracted, diverted; whatever verb you want to pluck out to fit the explanation."
Negan sighed in frustration. The idea Dwight was leading a horde south wasn't as crazy as it sounded. He had gotten away and was still out there somewhere, but he'd only been a runagate for a little over twenty-four hours. That was the only undefined part. So, what did that mean? What had Dwight's motives been all along? To help two people escape or to start something? And who exactly was helping him? There was no way he was doing this all on his own.
The advancing herd could be a coincidence, but Simon had made fair points. It was unlikely the large group of walkers had doubled back on their own, and as for the dead outposts, that was more than a stroke of misfortune. His domain was crumbling one barrack at a time, his network crashing down. Someone – not something - was killing his men again. That was the only explanation he found reasonable, and there was one person here who he hadn't spoken to yet that he could possibly get information out of
"I'm going to go visit my wives," Negan announced after a tense silence. "Keep trying for all patrols and direct them back here immediately. I want all outposts armed and ready for any threat. The order is to kill on sight, no questions. Then have everyone gather in the commons. We're having a fucking late night meeting."
"Yes, sir," Simon said amenably.
Negan left his office, stomping through the hallways at a formidable pace. Anyone who happened to meet him during his journey dropped to their knees instantly, nearly lowering their foreheads to the floor. His bad mood was apparently noticeable, like a black fog that choked the corridors before he'd even rounded a corner. His people could sense him coming.
He didn't bother to knock on the parlor doors, he rarely did, but his entrance wasn't cordial this time. The doors burst wide open, hitting the walls with a crash and vibrating in the aftershock. His wives jumped, a couple of them crying out in surprise, and they were all tense, their backs straight as a rod and their limbs tight. No one made eye contact, their eyes avoiding him and flirting with the floor; everyone's but Sherry's. She started at him, her brown eyes big and round as she watched him approach her. She knew he'd come for her eventually, and while she looked frightened Negan also noticed the moxie behind the fear.
"Did you know? Did you all fucking know?" He yelled at her, at all of them, not putting on a pretense of ease. He was anything but and he no longer had the patience to put on a fake face.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Her tone was even, smooth and convincing, but he wasn't buying it. Negan grabbed her by the back of her neck, yanking her to his chest.
"I want to hear some fucking truth come out of your mouth before I snap your goddamn neck. Did. You. Know?"
Sherry swallowed, her mouth betraying her as it wobbled. "No."
Negan let her go, throwing her back against the bar where she barely caught herself. He paced the room, looking at each one of his wives, forcing them to make eye contact. Some were crying and they were all terrified, but none of them said an answering word to his questions. He laughed at the utter bullshit of it all and the sound was foreign to his hears, nearly maniacal.
"Negan, you're scaring us," Frankie whispered.
"I swear to whatever fucking God there is reigning over this hell," he turned back to Sherry and pointed an accusing finger at her, "I will rip out your fucking tongues if I find out any you had a part in this."
"We don't. Know. Anything," she said resolutely. "Why would we?"
"He was your fucking husband!" Negan yelled and his booming voice circled in the room, the silence afterward more deafening than his outburst had been. Then he smiled and swung his arms out wide, Lucille adding an extra three and half reckless feet to his extremity, and his wives shrunk back. "But it does say quite a lot that he left you here, no?" He cocked his head and studied her. "Maybe that break up wasn't as hard on him as I thought it was."
Sherry's eyes twitched, but she managed to keep a straight face. She wasn't going to crack like he was pushing her to do; she knew this game.
"Can you sit yet, Sher?" He asked her.
"After a short adjustment period, yes," she answered truthfully. She thought back to last night when she had given him permission to do whatever he wanted in an attempt to keep him distracted. He'd been rough, more so than he'd ever been, and while he hadn't exactly left any marks on her other than red welts that had disappeared shortly after he was done, her skin was tender.
"When all this is settled, I'll make that more difficult for you. Then I'll use your mouth one more time before I make good on the first threat."
She saw a flash of insanity on his face, and she was inclined to believe him. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't hurt her; not like that. He was just extremely distressed and not reasonable, and he loved to make threats. The worst ones were when he was in a state such as this, but she didn't respond, letting him have his moment. Even if he truly meant it, he wouldn't be around long enough to follow through. She had faith in that.
Sasha sat idling in the van, the map she'd used to get to the Sanctuary tossed to the side. Her hands were pasted to the steering wheel and they itched from the vibrations of the music as it blared from the speakers. It was an odd song, one she'd heard before the world warped into something evil, but it fit the situation perfectly. She sat listening to it a moment as she waited for her newfound, straggling companions to join her, her eyes trained on the factory in the distance. She was the bait, the hook and liner that would lead them to reunite with their brothers and sisters trapped there, guarding the walls like demons surrounding Hell.
I got the new world in my view
On my journey I pursue
I said I'm running, running for the city
I got the new world in my view
Come on, get an army
Help me run this holy righteous place
Can't you hear them saviors calling
Well, He's knocking on your door today
Not today. Not anymore. She thought fiercely. Today, we're at your door, you bastard.
She revved the engine and then let go of the brake, letting the van roll down the road. She checked the side mirrors, the scene behind her tremoring from the bass, but she could make out their bouncing heads, their swaying arms. They weren't too far behind. She just needed to get them closer before she was noticed; before they killed her.
Her mission was to ensure the dead had a way to reach the Sanctuary and have a passage inside. She was well aware the Saviors would be on edge with their outposts dying out one-by-one. They probably knew she was here already. Her music was probably crystal clear across the distance, but she had to hold out and keep going; penetrate their walls and destroy their home like they had done to hers. It would be her dying right to the world, her personal way of balancing it out, and she almost felt bad for lying to Dwight. Almost.
Abraham entered her mind. She watched again as his head was beaten into the ground, flattened and displayed like road kill. Her foot twitched on the gas and the van lurched forward, but she quickly lessened the pressure, her hands wringing the steering wheel.
She thought about Bob and how she had reluctantly opened up to him. She hadn't expected to fall in love, but she had and he was gone just as quickly, taken by the dead just like her brother; just like everyone she had loved. And her world was lost, spinning out of sight. She had somehow managed to grasp onto something to slow it down, however, reeling it back in again. It was just as abrupt as the first time, but Abraham had been there for her. He had loved her and she him. It was something else the world had stolen from her; had ripped right out of her goddamn clawing, frantic hands and left them bare and aching.
But not now. She had something again, and they were on her side this go-round. Her eyes flicked to the mirrors once more.
"Be on my side this time," she whispered desperately through clenched teeth, her voice drowning in the music. "This one time."
The tears started, bitter, sorry, and sad. This was her last chance to find decency in the world. She'd lost faith in it a long time ago, but she wanted to believe she could find it again; at least in these last minutes. It owed her that much after everything it had taken.
"Come on, you fuckers!" She yelled. She was getting close to the Sanctuary now. She could see the chained walkers on the fence and people beyond that.
It was time. Her presence was apparent now and so were her followers. She saw the Saviors line up outside, ducking behind vehicles and corners, large guns in their hands. This one shot was all she would get. Ducking down, she slammed her foot on the gas, sending the van forward at a breakneck speed. Seconds later, the bullets ricocheted off the hood and pierced the glass, obstructing her ability to see over the dash, but she pressed hard on the pedal and kept the wheel straight, not slowing down once. She wasn't failing this.
The bullets were tiny missiles, and she worried the van would blow before she reached her destination. Smoke rose from the engine, trailing behind her like a smokestack from a freight train, but the vehicle miraculously continued to move, and a moment later, she felt resistance, heard the clamor of metal ripping and sparking as she plowed through the Sanctuary gate. She stayed down as an aerosol of projectile metal coated the sides of the van, popping the tires, and she felt it sway to the side and closed her eyes as it rolled over two times before slamming into something hard.
She was surrounded by black, seeing nothing but she heard yelling, screaming, and more gunfire. Her eyes struggled to open and focus, but she had to know. She had to see before she closed them for the last time. Her head felt heavy, her arms hovering above her head somehow. There was a great pressure on her stomach and chest, like carnivorous vines were interlaced around her, holding her in place as they bit into her abdomen. When her eyes adjusted, she realized the van had landed on its top, glass shattered and gleaming like tiny crystals around her. The music still played, loud and boastful. She craned her neck, turning her head to find the direction from which she came. There were feet and legs running frantically around the concrete yard, going one direction and then the next, and soon they began to retreat, coming toward her. She saw them then; the hundreds of dragging, rotting bodies stumbling and crawling; her new kin. They had made it and so had she. And she smiled, closing her eyes and feeling peaceful at last.
Edited by Nightperidot.
Okay, I was very indecisive on this chapter, but I suppose it's good enough (and I waited long enough, too). I couldn't decide if I wanted Everly to be a gun-toting badass that shoots up the Saviors or if she would be more timid. Ultimately, I decided on the latter (obviously). It made more sense to me with her character arc. What do you guys think about Sasha's sacrifice? It's definitely something she would've done. I like it better than her just running into the Sanctuary and ditching Rosita. At least she did some damn damage here.
How was the premiere last weekend? Is shit crazy? I'm going to binge the crap out this season once I'm all done with this. I've already heard enough spoilers! Anyway! I hope this chapter is better than I think it is. I've been very disappointed and moody with my writing recently. Enjoy the show tomorrow night!
Song: New World In My View by King Britt.