Into The Fray
With Gareth rushing to see what the uproar was, hysteria had spread, his men panicking as the sound of gunfire filled the air, Rick seizing his chance to strike. Now they lay dead on the floor, their unseeing eyes watching what was left of their world fall. As Daryl and the others stretched their aching limbs, Rick finally finished cutting Imogen free, their gazes locking and holding for a long moment. Then suddenly she was up and gone from his sight, a blur of faded red jumper and long ebony hair. Rick rocked on his heels, startled. In vain, he glanced around as he hurriedly got up, only to abruptly catch a glimpse of her up ahead, snatching up a cleaver as she moved.
Cursing, Rick raced after her, bypassing the carved up carcasses hanging from various hooks. Walkers were starting to crowd the courtyard outside, attracted by the sound of gunfire and screams. As they swelled in number, swarming around a set of nearby storage containers, Imogen suddenly and insanely made a beeline in their direction. But before she could reach the doorway, Rick lunged at her, grabbing the back of her Sloppy Joe jumper, dragging her away. Spitting, Imogen twisted and turned in vain, trying and failing to break free from his grip. As Daryl and the others drew closer, Rick ruthlessly swung Imogen round to face him, only for her to take a wild swing at him in turn. He blocked the blow, slamming her against the wall as she tried the same trick again, Rick ducking to the left this time, his face contorting with fury as he then loomed over her.
"What the hell you playin' at!?" he hissed, struggling to subdue her. "You're gonna get yourself killed!"
Imogen's answer to this was to slam her head into his, Rick avoiding the assault at the last second, reeling backwards. Imogen suddenly slashed at his arm instead, attempting to draw blood so he would drop her. But he just grabbed her wrist, fingers biting into her flesh as he painfully twisted her arm upwards, forcing her to let go of her weapon. Yet as the cleaver clattered to the floor, she suddenly sank her knee into his groin, making Rick double up, Imogen seizing the opportunity to escape –
-"Whoa, girl!" Daryl exclaimed, grabbing her round the middle, lifting her clean off her feet. "You tryin' to commit suicide or somethin'!?"
"God-damn-let-go-of-me!" Imogen choked out, his hold cutting the air to her lungs like a corset.
Rolling his eyes, Daryl loosened his grip but only ever so slightly, just enough to let her catch her breath.
Glenn glanced nervously at her as he edged around them. "Not a good idea," he muttered under his breath, only for his head to snap up at the sudden sound of shouting coming from the courtyard, except there was apparently no source for it. "There are people locked in these storage containers," he then said in disbelief as realization suddenly struck him, his hand gripping the corner of the counter for support.
Bob glanced around them all, reading their mostly reluctant faces. "Hey, we can't just leave them," he snapped, making Glenn nod fervently in agreement. "We need to get them out and now!"
Straightening up, Glenn then turned to Rick for affirmation, who just looked up at him from where he was still half bent double, lips curling downwards in derision.
"For-God's-sake, my-brother's-out-there!" Imogen gasped, still struggling in vain to break free of Daryl's death-grip.
Rick glanced at her, blue eyes bitter. "That prick's still alive?" he said, before half limping, half striding over to a metal table, various sharp implements spread across its stainless steel surface. "Mind you, I thought I recognized his dulcet tones," he drawled, picking up two machetes before coming back over to Imogen. "He was a singer in some shitty rock band, right?"
Imogen just glared up at him, eyes narrowing.
Rick's nostrils flared. "Look, we'll get him out, but only if you do exactly as I say, do you understand?" he then said through gritted teeth, stooping so he was eye-level with Imogen, his balls silently cursing her to hell.
She bit her lip, before nodding, obeying him against her will. Rick straightened up, jerking his head at the others to arm themselves. Satisfied she wasn't going to pull anymore stunts, Rick then signaled Daryl to drop Imogen, the sight of her nearly landing on her ass assuaging his own insulted ego. As she recovered her balance, Rick thrust a machete into her hand, before hurriedly casting a glance around at the others as they tested out their own weapons, Daryl brandishing a piece of broken pipe for good measure.
"This is still who we are," Glenn said in an undertone to Rick as they readied themselves.
"It's who we were," Imogen snapped, before throwing herself into the fray.
Oh, my God, I feel it in the air
Telephone wires above are sizzling like a snare
Honey, I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere
Nothing scares me anymore…
"Ain't no time for family reunions, girl!" Daryl yelled, sinking his piece of broken pipe into the cranium of a Walker as Imogen flung herself into her brother's arms, nearly knocking him down where he stood half stooped in the storage container's doorway.
"Where are Sienna and the others?" Kit demanded, ignoring the redneck's remark, raising his voice over the racket.
Imogen hesitated, on the edge of saying something, before thinking better of it. She shook her head instead, tears filling her eyes, words failing her. At this, Kit turned and booted the metal siding, a terrible cry of anguish escaping his lips. Behind them, the others continued to cover their position, taking out Walker after Walker, an eternal influx of the undead.
"Rick, three o'clock!" Bob yelled, sinking his machete into a Walker's skull.
Kit straightened up, just as Rick swung back around, their gazes crashing together. He stared at Rick as he took the Walker down, something about the stranger strangely familiar, briefly distracting him. Then it clicked despite the chaos. "You!?" he said in disbelief, doing an almost comical double-take, unable to reconcile the clean-shaven cop of yore with the bloodstained bearded man before him.
"Nice to meet you again too," Rick retorted, "long time no"-
The sound of rapid gunfire drowned out the rest of his words, the sound too close for comfort, everybody but Imogen diving behind the storage container, Imogen reacting a beat too late, Kit dragging her behind him just in the nick of time. Several of Gareth's lackeys came into view, scattering bullets like leaves in the wind, mostly missing their main target, the dead still advancing upon them despite their efforts.
Before anybody could react, Rick suddenly ran forwards, diving behind a car for cover, only for Imogen to unexpectedly follow him, Daryl stopping Kit from doing the same. But as Imogen moved, a Walker came out of a nearby doorway at the same time, its teeth aiming right for Rick's jugular. With one swift moment, Imogen sunk her machete into its skull, only to suddenly slump against the wall as the carcass landed facedown by Rick's feet, the last of her strength starting to leave her.
"Thanks," Rick flung over his shoulder, voice deliberately deadpan, "now stay put." Before she could blink, he was gone again, the sound of his running footsteps replaced by the racket of bullets ricocheting off brick filling the air, interspersed with the sound of screams. As Imogen flinched against the wall, Rick was suddenly standing in front of her again, holding aloft an automatic, signaling for the others to step forth. "Get the guns," he ordered them, before grabbing Imogen's wrist as she made to move past him, halting her. "You know how to handle this?" he asked urgently, jerking his chin at the automatic he was almost cradling in the crook of his arm.
Imogen looked at him for a long moment. "I learned," she then said abruptly, "fast."
He nodded before steering her over to where everyone was loading themselves up, noting with some disquiet how Kit could barely carry the rifle he'd looted. Rick rooted around the dead, kicking aside corpse after corpse until he found what he was looking for. Jaw tightening, he handed Imogen her own automatic and a spare clip. "You stay close," he said firmly, "and you do exactly as I say, right?"
"So says you," Imogen snapped, turning to leave.
"Where the hell you goin' now!?" Rick snapped back, grabbing her arm.
"Rick, we ain't got time for this," Daryl growled, taking out another Walker.
"I'm getting the hell out of here," Imogen fired at Rick, trying and failing to get free from him, "and you can get the hell off me while I'm at it!"
"I ain't lettin' you goddamn go out there half-cocked"-
- "There's train cars," Imogen blurted out suddenly, catching Kit's eye, making him straighten up, brow furrowing, "my – my group"-
-"You just said they were gone!" Rick said in disbelief, letting go of her.
"It's a slim chance," Imogen spat, Rick freezing at having his own words echoed back at him, reverberating down the years, "and it's all we got" -
- "We're going that way," Glenn interrupted, sick of Imogen and Rick arguing, wasting valuable time, "so we'll go together" -
- "What way?" Kit demanded, already on the move, his legs trembling dangerously beneath him.
Glenn jerked his head in the opposite direction, at where Maggie and the others were, intending to go there first, making Imogen vehemently shake her own head.
Daryl watched them, deciding there and then to take charge. "We split up," he said, his tone brooking no opposition, "us lot check the joint, youse get the others an' we all meet by the fence."
Rick looked at Daryl as if he was mad, but Daryl just shook his head, refusing to be swayed. They'd all heard the cries coming from the other train cars. If there were people still imprisoned inside, he was going to get them out. If they split up, it gave them time to cover more ground, time they might not have otherwise. Imogen looked like she was on the edge of arguing again, Rick suddenly seeing she had no intention of allying herself with him, the knowledge strangely hurting despite everything. And then she was being dragged away by Daryl, Kit close on their heels, Imogen taking one last glance at Rick over her shoulder as they went, before disappearing from sight amongst the dead.
"Daryl!" Rick yelled as he saw them approach, terrible relief making him sag against the fence. "Over here!"
But he suddenly saw Gareth and two other men run into view up on the rooftop, their rifles trained on Daryl, Kit and Imogen who were now fighting their way to the fence. He immediately started shooting in their direction, the men ducking for cover, a bullet catching Gareth in the shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Get your asses into gear, pricks!" Abraham boomed, gesturing wildly at them.
Cursing, Daryl shoved Imogen ahead, Kit covering her until she reached Rick, who caught her in his arms. Their gazes locked and held for a long moment again, the world hanging in the balance between them, and then he was shoving her over the fence, Glenn catching her on the other side.
"C'mon!" Daryl shouted at Kit, who was lagging behind, almost collapsing.
Rushing forwards, Rick grabbed Kit roughly by the wrist, hauling him ahead, Abraham forcing him over the fence. Daryl was the next one to go, then Rick, then Abraham, the swarm of Walkers almost on top of them. But as Rick dropped to the ground, it was only to discover Kit half sitting, half lying in the long grass, Imogen kneeling down beside him, her face bloodless. The rest of the group stood back, surveying the scene in shocked silence, not sure what to do, something about the strangers making them hesitate.
"What the hell's goin' on now!?" Rick demanded, making Imogen glance up at him, eyes wild. "We need to move, people!"
"Kit - he can't walk," she choked out, rising to her feet.
"What do you mean he can't?"
"His legs just gave way, Dad," Carl explained hurriedly as he stepped forwards, glancing nervously at the Walkers reaching for them from behind the fence.
Rick looked at Carl for a long moment, his relief at seeing his son safe ruined by this latest crisis. "You need to get up, buddy," Rick then fired at Kit, rounding on him. "And now!"
"I just said he can't!" Imogen snapped. "What part of that don't you understand!?"
"This ain't the time for bellygassin, people," Abraham interjected loudly, suddenly tackling Kit and swinging him over his shoulder, "and it ain't the time to have a man down either, so stop your strugglin', Snake Hips. It's either this or we just leave you where you lay."
Kit stopped struggling, the fight leaving his almost broken body, unable to take anymore. The gamble they had taken in checking the train cars hadn't paid off, the people inside not theirs. The strangers hadn't hung around, making their own escape. But he knew deep down that Sienna and the others were long gone, that he was chasing ghosts, holding onto hopeless hope.
As they then headed into the trees, Daryl leading the way, the smell of smoke turning the air acrid, Rick fell into step beside Imogen, trying and failing to marshal his thoughts together. Somehow they had survived, and somehow she was alive and here with him. But Imogen stared straight ahead, acting as if he didn't exist, her chin trembling.
"Right here," Daryl called over, kicking up a pile of leaves, his foot connecting with a concealed shovel.
Rick hurriedly came over, before dropping to his knees, snatching up the shovel with frantic hands. As he began to dig almost desperately, the others came over, Kit still comically slung over Abraham's shoulder. "We'll go along the fences," Rick said in a rush, looking round at them all, "use the rifles and take out the rest of them."
"What?" Bob said, stepping forwards, exchanging a bewildered glance with Sasha.
"They don't get to live," Rick said abruptly, clearing away the rest of the earth with his hands, "so we finish it, right here, right now."
"Rick, we got out," Glenn said slowly, Maggie taking his hand. "It's over."
"No, it's not," Imogen said, finally speaking up, "it's not over until those bastards are eating bullets for breakfast."
Despite everything, Rick raised his eyebrows at this, amused against his will, having not forgotten the theatrical phrases Imogen had sometimes dropped on occasion.
"That place is on fire," Rosita argued, taking a step forwards, making Eugene take a step back, "full of Walkers" -
- "They've killed countless people," Imogen said, rounding on Rosita, grey eyes beginning to bulge dangerously, "they were going to kill us. They deserve to die for everything they've done!"
"Think you might have just found your soulmate, Rick," Abraham said in a mock undertone, half turning away from the tableau.
"Fuck you," Rick snapped, pulling out his Colt Python, "girl's talkin' sense" -
- "No she ain't, buddy," Abraham snapped back, whirling around, ignoring Kit's startled cry, "we ain't goin' back there after just barely makin' it out alive. I ain't riskin' Eugene's life for some half-baked revenge" -
- "The fences are down," Maggie cut across him, her green gaze locking with Rick's, silently pleading with him to see sense, "they'll run or die."
Rick studied her face for a long moment, remembering the sweeping arc of the Samurai sword, cutting down everything they'd shed blood to build, their hope for a better future dying with Hershel. He glanced at Tara, his jaw tightening unconsciously, and she shrank back, guilt written over her face, mistaking his stare for silent judgment.
His gaze then fell upon Carl, the sight of his son's pale face beneath the brim of his battered sheriff hat causing his heart to twist in his chest, the pain intensified by the memory of a bloodsplattered baby car-seat. Jaw tightening, he dashed his hand angrily across his eyes as he averted his face, not wanting them to see his tears. This wasn't the time for weakness. Imogen looked at him curiously, looking as if she was about to say something, only to think twice about it.
The sudden sound of leaves crunching underfoot made everybody whirl around, only to see a woman with short grey hair emerge from the trees, carrying a crossbow by her side, a heavy gun slung over her shoulder. Shocked, Rick slowly got up, silence stretching out as taut as a wire. Carol…
"You need to come with me, Rick," Carol said abruptly, "I" – But the rest of her sentence was cut off by Daryl suddenly dragging her into his arms, before swinging her off her feet, the two of them clinging to each other for dear life.
Rick came over, each step feeling like a mile, eying Carol with apprehension, remembering abandoning her to her own fate. "Did... did you do that?" he asked uncertainly, referring to the destruction of Terminus. At this, Daryl finally let go of Carol, who turned to Rick, her own face unsure, tears filling her eyes, a smile trembling on her lips. She looked at Daryl, something in his eyes giving her courage, and she gave Rick a tremulous nod, her answer cut off by his own abrupt embrace, Rick burying his face in her shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered, "thank you."
Carol gently pushed him away. "You have to come with me, Rick," she repeated, her voice gaining strength, "now."