Chapter 15
"Negan's on his way."
Rick froze. Guess the fence wasn't getting fixed today, after all. Michonne leaned against the cool brick wall and watched Rick set the hammer down carefully, as if it were made of glass. He wasn't facing her, but she knew that look on his face. His shoulders were more hunched than she remembered, was it age or burden that was getting to him? Rick picked the hammer back up and continued replacing boards, a little more violently than before.
"He's early."
"I know, I know. It's collection time, and he was already passing through. Radioed ahead of time, at least. Wants to pick you up for a job."
"A job. He said that?"
"I guess so. A job."
Rick snorted. "Like he needs help moving. A job."
Michonne smiled. "More like he needs help robbing a bank, knowing his type."
Rick turned and squinted at her in the sunlight. Shoulders squared now, must have just been exhaustion from the fencework. Not to say he didn't have plenty of burdens, either.
"If he walked up that pathway with a cold six-pack of beer, hell, I'd be the getaway driver." Ricks lips twitched in an almost-smile. He wiped his sweaty brow on a not-so-clean looking rag and sighed. They started towards home.
"Never struck me as much of a beer drinker," Michonne said with a sly smile.
Rick shook his head. "Wasn't really, but something about yardwork on a hot day brings it out in me."
They chatted about other, lesser things in Alexandria. Supplies, who was doing what jobs, who was doing who. Anything but the thing that Michonne came to talk to him about. Anything but the thing that murdered their friends, and took half their shit.
Sometimes they could even forget for an hour, a half-day. Once Michonne went a few days not thinking about Negan, about walkers, about everyone she knew and loved dying over and over and over.
"You think it will ever be easy?" she asked Rick.
"What will?"
She shrugged. "Anything."
Rick shook his head, and looked out towards Alexandria. Everyone was working hard, harder than they really could handle. Three of them already had been put on bedrest for exhaustion, and the summer harvest was long over, fall crops coming in weak and struggling. Maybe not enough for winter. Not with Negan taking half the food supply.
Rick followed Michonne back towards the house, after asking the rest of the laborers to rest up and hydrate. Though the nights were growing cooler, it was still hot out during the day.
"I don't like this," he said to Michonne when they were inside. Judith, drowsy from a nap and freshly exchanged from the sitter, reached out for Michonne with a disgruntled squeal.
"He's bringing Daryl."
"Why?"
Michonne cocked an eyebrow. "You do remember the part where I'm just relaying messages, right? Do I look like I know what that motherfucker is up to?"
Rick's eyes flicked towards Judith.
"It isn't the end of the world if her first word is 'motherfucker.'"
"It's already the end of the world. But I was hoping it would be 'Dada,' or 'Carl,' or…"
"Headshot?" Judith squealed at Michonne's suggestion, only prompted slightly by tickling fingers. "Yeah, she'll be a good shot."
"I don't like this."
"So you said." Michonne rummaged for a clean sippy cup and filled it with water "I didn't think you would. But Daryl, maybe that's something."
"What, like progress?"
She shrugged. Judith drained the water and threw the cup over her shoulder. All done. She looked at Michonne, then Rick, and mimic his serious face. Furrowed brow, pursed lips. Only on her, it was adorable, and not quite so serious.
"Maybe progress. Maybe not."
Rick scooped up Judith and set her down in her playpen in the living room, then went into the kitchen for some water. He downed it eagerly, and Michonne half expected him to throw the cup over his shoulder. All done.
"But Rick?"
He looked over, that lost look in his eyes. He was faraway, here but not here. "Mmm?"
"Please, Rick. Please don't piss him off." She slid something over to him on the marble countertop, and he caught it without thinking.
Rick opened up his hands, and smiled at the object. A glistening pocketknife winked back at him in the light.
"Just in case."
He nodded. "Just in case."
/ / / / /
"Little pig, little pig! Let me come- oh."
The gate opened before Negan could finish. "Well, that's what I call fuckin' service." He didn't want to admit he had been trying to think of a clever quip for miles before they got to the gate, and then blanked on his brilliant idea once they pulled up. Well, it was more about the attitude than what the words were, anyways.
They were learning, these Alexandrians. For fuck's sake, it was like they were some noble Roman culture, they were the invading barbarians. The Vikings to the Saxons. The Mongols to the- well all of fucking Asia, he was getting beyond his comfort zone in history, which wasn't very large.
They were a fucking slow learning type of bunch, but learning nonetheless. He notified Rick in a disappointedly proud way a few collections back – he'd hoped there to be a lot more resistance, but the fire here in Alexandria had faded. They were hungry, scared, tired. Good in some ways, boring in others.
Rick was waiting for him. Arms crossed, with that fucking look in his eye that made Negan's teeth grind. A look that said Rick knew of a day when he would slit Negan's throat, it was just a matter of time. And somehow, Negan felt it too. Just a matter of time.
Negan broke into a huge smile and threw his arm around Rick. "Howdy neighbor! How ya doing?" He began to walk towards Rick's house, as if they were on their way to a friendly barbeque. Lucille slung casually over his shoulder, fresh and clean.
Thirsty.
"Lucille here missed you all, but I've managed to convince her to bide her fuckin' time." Negan cocked an eyebrow knowingly. "She's an impatient lady. Speaking of which, where's your lady? That badass chick with the glare and the swords?"
Rick didn't respond, just trudged along wordlessly. Negan whistled to his men, signaling them to begin collection.
Borrrrring.
Back in the Grimes' house, Negan looked around the place. He poked in drawers, whistling pleasantly and peeking into cupboards. Rick watched silently.
"Love what you've done with the place, Rick my man. Did you repaint? Better Homes and fuckin' Gardens had just a swell goddamn article on rustic charm that-"
"What job did you want to pick me up for?" Rick stood in a typical cop stance, fucking power stance, feet shoulder-width apart and hand on his hip, although his pistol had been confiscated long ago by Negan. But that hand still twitched for it, for the empty holster, ever so slightly.
Negan made a face of mock insult, then shook it off. "You're right, I'm grandstanding and we don't have time. You're going to come along with me on a little trip. I got a little something that needs finding, and un-fuckin'-fortunately for me, I can't deny how handy you are in goddamn situations."
He pointed Lucille at Rick. No flinch. "Your boy – I mean, my boy, Daryl will come along with."
"Where to?"
"It's Back to Fucking School Night!"
Silence. Borrrrrring.
"Nothing? I was going to go with 'School is in fuckin' session' or something about bells that I couldn't quite land on. I'm still workshopping it. No? Nothing? Fuck me, you all are a tough crowd."
"A school? What for?"
Negan smiled. Now the curiosity has piqued, ding ding ding!
"Has to do with that swell fuckin' guy you all found! Talking of creepy fuckers in the mountains. Nothing like the creepy mountain folk. Almost as bad as creepy desert folk. Something about all that sun and sand and cactuses and shit cooks the brains. Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Yuma with the dynamite and the roadkill?"
"What do you need from the school?"
"I'll tell you when we fuckin' get there, Barbara Walters. Enough of the goddamn questions. I might just give you answers. If I so fuckin' choose, of course." He tilted his head and flashed a winning smile.
Winning smiles rarely worked on Rick.
"Mmm," was the only response. Rick had a habit of only moving when needed. He stood stark still, hardly any fidgeting, no nervousness. Just in that authoritative cop stance that made Negan want to break his kneecap. The stare that bored deep into Negan and said I will fucking kill you.
Unfortunately, Negan needed Rick's kneecaps to be functional. For now.
"Let me sweeten the pot a little bit, Rick. I'm a reasonable fuckin' man," Negan leaned up against the wall, tapping Lucille gently. Rick's eyes flicked downward and his jaw clenched as flecks of paint sprinkled downward.
Negan continued. "You and Daryl help me with this, and maybe another little trip or two, and I'll ease up on collections until next spring."
Rick shifted on his feet. Bingo. Nothing incentivizes good, decent, loyal leaders (Negan tried not to gag at this thought) like helping their people. God taketh, God giveth, and the people rejoice in his name.
I am Negan.
"You heard me abso-fuckin'-lutely correctly. Ease up, not zero collections, but I think I've broken your people's spirit, Rick. Everyone looks the proper about of scared, but also you all are fuckin' boring as shit. You ain't of any use of you all are dead. Now, that don't mean I'm not going to swing by for some hot cocoa come the winter, cozy up by the fireplace for some stories… but I won't take half your shit."
Rick squinted at him, weighing this reward against fuck knows what. "We get Daryl back at the end of this, and you've got a deal." He paused, and reconsidered. "Let me clarify: we get Daryl back, alive and well at the end of these… jobs. Only three jobs, and we get Daryl back."
"Well, well, well. You've located those big brass balls again!" Negan stared at him for a moment, then burst into a booming laugh. "You're in no fuckin' position to negotiate, and yet you fuckin' do anyways. Alright asshole, you got yourself a deal." Rick didn't need to know that was already working towards Negan's plan anyways. Daryl was kind of a buzzkill, and only complied within what he absolutely had to do. Negan would have to handicap them somehow eventually, but goddamn it was getting bleak out here.
He held out a big, meaty hand. Rick looked at it a moment, then took it. They shook on it, eyes not leaving one another. Negan smiling, Rick scowling. The handshake went on a little too long, and Negan was about to break a finger before Rick finally let go.
Negan smiled. "We're going on a field trip, prick. Get your bookbag and let's go."
It took an excruciating hour of Negan trying to be patient before they left. He had to admit, departing Alexandria was odd. Negan already let his men know he was taking Rick and Daryl on a "special trip," with the implication that it was going to be some sort of horribly unpleasant experience. He declined any additional men, but then appeared to change his mind last minute, deciding on Kevin. The other Saviors exchanged some glances- Kevin was more of the guy you brought along with other (more capable) guys- and a few made some snarky comments. These halted after Negan broke the jaw of one of the wiseasses, and left Dwight in charge to finish the collection at Alexandria.
Then they were merrily (at least Negan was, anyways) on their way, Negan driving one of the big SUV's they brought along for collection trips. Daryl sat next to him, handcuffed (just to be safe) and Kevin sat across from Rick in the backseat. Rick was also handcuffed, and Kevin had a pistol trained on him, although it wasn't too terribly convincing. Kevin was far more intimidated by his backseat companion than Rick was of him.
Negan played old classic rock and was disappointed with the lack of enthusiasm his crew showed for the music, despite most of them probably not hearing good music in awhile. Well, Daryl especially who seemed to wince at the start of every song changing over, as if 'Easy Street' was going to ooze out it's hauntingly chipper tunes from the speakers.
"Clapton was the best guitarist around, save for Hendrix," Negan said, whistling along to Strange Brew by Cream. He looked in his mirror hopefully to see any objectors, and unfortunately there were none. Pity. Most of the Saviors were country rock fans, or just agreed with whatever Negan said. He missed heated arguments about stupid bullshit like music. Stuff that didn't really matter, but it mattered back then.
Daryl and Rick were scowling out of their respective windows, and Kevin was so focused on keeping an eye on Rick he didn't have the attention span for anything else.
Negan sighed, and turned up the volume.
The drive to the school was uneventful, save for a small herd of walkers that Negan gleefully clipped off a few with the front bumper, then shifted in reserve to take out a few more just to make the trip a little more eventful. They passed some tempting looking abandoned cars and a gas station that still looked like there might be whispers of stale, plastic-wrapped treasures. But time, that evil overlord, looked on and they pushed on.
After a few wrong turns from the main road in no part Negan's fault at all, no sir, Daryl's navigation skills by way of the road atlas led them to the school.
"Copper Fuckin' Basin Elementary," Negan read out loud as they pulled up near a sign on the corner of a dilapidated street. They all squinted curiously towards the small brick building that lay ahead. It was an older building, post-Civil War but pre-Depression era, finely constructed but the lack of frills and décor indicated this was a working town with little need for the usual Southern charm that many public buildings had.
Negan threw the car into park and began to open his door before Rick told him to stop in a low voice.
"Let's watch it for a minute. Make sure there's no activity before we head in."
Negan sighed dramatically, but it wasn't a bad idea. They waited another ten minutes or so, but aside from the wind, there was no further movement in the building-
"There," Daryl said, pointing towards a window on the second floor. About half of them were boarded up, the remaining were broken or the boards had rotted and fallen on. They all watched the window, and saw a flutter of a shadow.
"Walker?" Kevin asked.
"Maybe." Daryl watched a minute longer. "Think so."
Negan was getting antsy. "Well, the quicker we fuckin' go in there the quicker we can all get the fuck out and go about our goddamn business."
They clamored out, and Rick held up his hands. "Am I going to be of much use with these?"
"Ah, uncuff the poor fucks Kevin. They try anything, shoot out his eye to match his kid."
"Uhhh left or right?" Kevin looked incredibly stressed by the possibility of a wrong choice.
"Does it fuckin' matter?"
Rick stared at Negan while he was being uncuffed. "What are we doing here?"
Negan pulled him aside as the others scoped out the parking lot. He told Rick about the settlement but was sparse on details, especially the Lucy detail. Rick nodded along, his face growing more and more agitated as he heard more of the Shadow Coven (though there was little to be said). The look in his eye, once reserved exclusively for Negan, seemed to grow in intensity now. Something inside Negan was thrilled, and a smaller something was a little afraid.
Once he was done talking, Negan grabbed Rick by the jaw. Rick's eyes widened in surprise, and he tried to pull away but Negan's fingers dug in harder.
"Listen to me, you prick. This information is on fucking lockdown, got it? I hear so much of a whisper that you've pillow-talked to your fuckin' girl about this, I'm going to come down to your house and gut her in front of you. Maybe even Carl too, and your little girl. And that would break my poor fuckin' heart."
Rick nodded shakily, sweat pouring down his head.
Negan brought Lucille close to Rick's face, barbs an inch away from his eyeball. "That's how fuckin' serious I am about this. There's something fucked up, a leak in the boat, and I need this air-fuckin'-tight. I am only barely trusting you in this because I know what a fuckin' Boy Scout you are. Got it?"
Rick got it.
Kevin and Daryl pretended not to notice the encounter, though the air was now tense, a sense of urgency tugged at them all. They entered the school, flashlights drawn. Dust motes floated lazily, disturbed from their sleepy slumber by new movement and fluctuations in the air.
The place was peppered lightly with walkers, most of which were lazy and rotted to uselessness. The ones left were trapped in closets or tangled in makeshift barricades. A janitor, a teacher, and others that couldn't be discerned by profession. Thankfully, no kid walkers, which Negan had been dreading. All in all, it was much easier than anticipated and Negan felt like an asshole driving them all out there. It was a smaller school, probably had no more than a few hundred students total, maybe less. He could have done this himself and saved all the hassle.
He was grateful for the company though. The place was dark inside, save for some streams of light that burst forward through the slats of the boarded windows. Together, they scoured the administrative section, dumping out filing cabinets and rifling through folders, trying to locate something- anything – that indicated the caverns' location. Kevin was fairly useless at anything involving reading, so Negan sent him off to go find other supplies, and before long he found a precious supply of toilet paper, miscellaneous stale snacks, and some craft supplies he grabbed for the kids back at Sanctuary. Negan sent him to pack up whatever could fit into the car.
Daylight was burning, and Negan was considering calling it a day when Rick croaked out from across the room: "Got somethin'."
Negan and Daryl dropped their papers and went over to Rick. He sat on top of a desk surrounded by boxes stuffed full of brochures and miscellaneous papers.
"Says 'Littlechapel Cavern- See the local natural wonder in the Blue Ridge Mountains' and then it goes on about the caverns. Used to be used as a church for the locals for special occasions due to the acoustics in one of the rooms." He flipped it over, "Here it is: just twenty miles off the main road, though there's some side roads to take. Directions are all here. This it?"
Negan could have kissed Rick. Instead, he opted for a hearty backslap that made the man wince.
"You beautiful son-of-a-bitch! Let's blow this fuckin' popsicle stand." He kicked aside a stack of papers with glee. Papers went flying through the air, settling in the dilapidated office like snow.
His mind raced with next steps. First, back to Sanctuary- he still needed to rule the roost and make an appearance. But now, a veil had been lifted, at least. If there was one thing Negan didn't like, it was not knowing things. And now, he knew more than he did before. That was something, at least.
He just hoped it wouldn't be too late.