One Flesh
Now
"Whatcha you bringin' her out for, man!?" John said in disbelief, lowering his knife sharpener to his side as he spoke. "We's processin' the pricks from A and D!"
"Gareth told me to," Brian snapped, signalling for the girl to be brought forth, Sarah struggling to restrain her, "handpicked her from the feedlot himself. You know how... partial he is to foreign flesh."
"What's he doin' with the brother?" Adam asked, swinging his bat back and forth.
"Still saving him for a special occasion," Brian smirked, "needs to fatten him up a bit more though. There's still not much meat on this one either," he said, glancing critically at the girl, "but she'll serve as a side-dish I suppose. There's some nice specimens amongst the new shipment..."
Rick raised his spinning head, the sound of a saw buzzing nearby boring into his skull, the gag tight against his teeth. Daryl was shoved down next to Rick, knocking him sideways, Bob battering into his other side, Glenn crashing into Daryl, their captors laughing at the sight, making Brian trill in a high falsetto … ' and they were pretty maids all in a row…' provoking even more mocking laughter. Four other men were also led to the slaughter, struggling in vain as they moved, all strangers to Rick except the one at the end, Rick barely recognizing him as Sam from the house he and Carol had scavenged for supplies what seemed so long ago.
Sam stared at him, his pale eyes sparking with recognition, the rest of him paralysed by terror. He and the other men were forced to their knees, the girl being dragged to a small gap between Glenn and a middle-aged man wearing a grey t-shirt, only for her to suddenly slam her head back into Sarah's face. The blow met bone, making Sarah scream and double up, her hands flying to her nose, sending the girl sprawling as she let go of her.
"Get the fuck out of here!" Brian spat at Sarah and the others, making them scatter. He grabbed a handful of the girl's long black hair, hauling her upright against his body before pressing the edge of his knife against her neck, forcing her to fall still. "Don't make this harder for yourself, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear. "You don't want to take the slow way out, do you?" Silence was all the answer he received, but nonetheless satisfied she understood, he flung her onto the floor, her body colliding with the side of the metal trough.
The girl lifted her head, battling the tears now beginning to fall, terror warring with torment. As Brian conferred with John and Adam, her gaze somehow found Rick's, making him freeze, something about her frighteningly familiar. She stared at him, brow creasing, only for her grey eyes to suddenly widen with shock above her gag, Rick's doing the same, realization striking them at the same time. Inexplicably, she had been the last thing he'd thought of as he slipped into unconsciousness after being shot, and he'd set aside her memory upon waking up in the new world, laying her ghost to rest, even as her face still haunted his dreams.
Imogen stared at Rick in disbelief, seeing past the unkempt exterior to the clean-cut country boy cop he'd been. It was his eyes that had given him away, or otherwise she wouldn't have recognized him, having never met another man with eyes as piercingly blue as his. For one brief heartbeat, she remembered him as he had been, a quiet man whose silences were eloquent than words, the memory suddenly splintered by the scraping sound of a blade being sharpened. Her head snapped round, only to see John then examine his cleaver with a critical eye, tilting it to catch the light. As he did, Adam paced the ground behind her, still swinging the baseball bat back and forth, as if he was about to hit a home run.
"C'mon, man," John complained as he then strode over to Sam, "quit pissin' about!"
"Okay, okay," Adam muttered, shouldering his bat as he came over. And then the butchery began, the river of blood reaching Imogen, her gaze finding Rick's again as she ascended the scaffold, bracing her body for the final blow -
"Hey guys, what were your shot counts?" Gareth asked, appearing in the doorway opposite, Rick tearing his gaze away from Imogen, concealing the shard of wood under his sleeve as he did, the moment almost imperceptible. Neither of the men made to answer him, making Gareth step forwards, pen poised impatiently, a thick black journal resting in the palm of his hand. "Hello, shot counts?" he pressed, arching an eyebrow.
"38," Adam said abruptly, annoyed at being interrupted.
"And yours?" Gareth prompted John, making him shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"I'm – I'm sorry," John said, his voice suddenly cracking, "it's my first round-up."
As Gareth reprimanded him, Bob suddenly spoke out, words distorted and indistinguishable, Gareth trying to ignore him, Bob refusing to be ignored, making Gareth roll his eyes and kneel down in front of Bob, pulling down his gag.
"You don't have to do this," Bob said in an angry rush, "we have a man - he has a cure – if we just get him to Washington we can put the world back to how it was" -
- "Not interested" -
- "You just have to take that chance!"
"No, we don't," Gareth said, sounding bored, gagging Bob again. He glanced over at Imogen and the others, brow furrowing slightly as he counted them. "Four from A, four from D, and you, the exotic import," he then said, smiling down at Imogen. "I'm anticipating the opportunity to further educate my palate. You see, I have this theory the English are an acquired taste" -
- "Thuck yuu!" Imogen choked out, lunging forwards.
"As you see, we have an Anglo-Saxon savage amongst us," Gareth said dryly, before suddenly turning his attention to Rick, noticing the way he was watching Imogen, Gareth's eyes becoming alert with almost insidious intent. "Hey, Romeo," he said, kneeling down in front of him, "what's in the bag you took into the woods?"
Rick didn't answer him, blue eyes baleful.
Gareth studied him for a second, before getting up and going over to Imogen, bending over her, making her stiffen. Before she could react, he grabbed her by the throat, his notebook now on the floor, the point of his blade suddenly inches from her eye. "You sweet on her or something, Rick?" he said, not sounding the least bit interested. "If so, I don't think you want me to do this" -
- "AK-47, 44 Magnum, automatic weapons," Rick reeled off, his voice cracking, "night-scope, compound bow, and a machete with a red handle. That's what I'm going to use to kill you." He spoke quietly, but it was if he shouted, his words making the other men step back. But Gareth refused to be intimidated, a smirk slowly spreading across his face, only for the explosion to hit, heralding the end of his empire.
When the fire dies
Dark in the skies
Hot as a match
Only smoke is left...