She addressed them still covered in her mentor's blood hoping that it would express the gravity in what she had to say. It had already started to dry on her skin, and when her mouth moved she could feel it pull across her cheeks. "Those of you left standing have a choice, and you can only make it once," she bellowed. "You can believe in what the Civic Republic is trying to do, to find the cure and save the world. Or you can end up like them," she said pointing at the fallen scattered around the room. "Decide." Leaving those who remained to do just that, she stormed away from the stage and made to exit the room.
Out of the corner of her eye Amanda Shepherd stepped over a body and waited to be called on. The Councilor did so wordlessly and motioned for the woman to approach and match her pace. "Ma'am," she started before the former officer did something she had never risked trying before. "Beth," she said, placing her hand on the younger woman's arm to stop her movements. The Councilor turned to face her, blinking away her surprise at the motion. "Is this really–is this what you want? You sounded like–"
"Don't," she ordered harshly, already knowing who she was going to say. "They can't be trusted to think for themselves. Clearly," she said, sweeping an arm out to illustrate her point with the bodies on the ground. "It's time to try something different. They'll do what I say, or they won't do anything at all. No more secret meetings, no more forgoing oversight to keep the army separate. We can make it look however we want, but they don't get real choices anymore." She pulled her arm from the other woman's grasp and kept walking. "And don't call me that anymore."
Unsurprisingly, every one of the survivors made the same choice.
NowThe older woman scoffed. "Seems like a pile of bullshit to me. Are we supposed to buy that?" The Councilor went to respond but apparently Michonne wasn't done yet. "You stole years of our lives for your mission ," she spat. "And that's just us. What about everyone else you've taken away from their families? The people you've killed?"
"What about them?" she snapped. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for the murderers, rapists, and backstabbers that I put down? Because I'm not and if you're expecting me to be, don't hold your breath," she bit out. "I'm trying to save the world. " You're the one who abandoned your children and ran off to find one man. "
Michonne huffed out a laugh, baffled. "And how is that any different from what you're doing now?"
Beth fought against the reaction to take a step back as she tried not to let the words affect her, deciding to fight fire with fire. "I didn't leave anyone behind that can't take care of themselves. Where exactly is your son, Michonne?"
The woman attempted to lunge at her with hatred on her face as Rick grabbed her around the waist to hold her back. "ENOUGH!" His eyes bore into the blonde's as he held onto his wife. "Let's just get this done and get home. We can fight about this when we're not halfway across the world." His tone left no room for argument as he slowly released his hold around his wife but keeping his good hand on her hip. "Why don't you and Judith go see what we can scavenge from upstairs." It wasn't a suggestion and she seemed to pick up on that as mother and daughter exchanged a look and moved up the staircase.
She stood still and waited for him to say whatever it was she knew he wanted to say. Instead of meeting her sour face with one similar he just looked disappointed. It was the worst thing she'd ever seen grace his face. "I won't pretend that I'm not angry, because I am," he told her. "But I–I understand, too, I think. Maybe not all of it but–" he paused to find the words. "Your father was a good man, who believed the world of you girls." She sucked in a breath of the mention of her father and held it, knowing that if she let it go she'd likely let more than just the memory of him hit her. "I just can't believe that he's gone from you. That you've completely lost who you were, who I knew you to be. It just doesn't–" He shook his head. "This isn't you. And I think you know that."
He let the words settle in the air and gave her one last reflective look before heading into the kitchen at the back of the house.
She exhaled, happy to see him go as moisture pricked at the corner of her eyes. She fought to compose herself before looking around the living room she stood in. The home was older, built long before she was born, but held a mixture of vintage and modern decor, as if there had been multiple generations sharing the space.
She decided to leave the hutch in front of the food alone for now, as the extra weight of the items inside would only help if something tried to come through the door. There was a desk and a bookcase along the wall leading up to the small fireplace so she started there.
The home fell silent as night fell, darkness and the reluctance to light a candle that could be seen outside stopping her scavenging until the morning. She took the time to change into a new set of clothes that she found in the downstairs bedroom, a pair of dark jeans and a dark sweater with an undershirt before replacing her overcoat and all her accessories and boots. She left her old clothes in a heap near the corner, not feeling attached to them enough to save them.
The Grimes women hadn't returned downstairs and she didn't know exactly where Rick was as she settled into a desk chair near the front window and took watch for the night. She wasn't sure how long had passed, hours, when the dark-haired woman descended the stairs and wordlessly posted herself at the other side of the window.
Beth took the offering for what it was and moved over to the well-used couch, quickly falling into a light sleep that didn't last long.
Michonne whispered to wake her, hand on the sword as her back. "There's someone outside, around the corner." Her eyes shot open to see that the sun had begun to rise and a low light filtered in through the window. "A woman, speaking French, to herself I think. Or a radio. She has a truck."
Her eyes widened at the possibility and sat up from where she had slept; a vehicle of any kind would certainly make their pursuit move quicker. She thought it over before asking. "Wake them, or take it first?" Either of them could have easily taken the woman on themselves and secured the truck, but the extra numbers of the husband and daughter might be an extra advantage.
To her surprise the older woman furrowed her brows at her. "Or we could talk to her, see if she's seen a surly redneck around." She fought back the impulse to roll her eyes and nodded to Michonne. She'd have to take point, being the one who could speak the language. The Councilor stood and unholstered her sidearm, motioning towards the door. They both crept forward as quietly as possible to exit the home into the sunlight.
The door made the slightest noise as it was opened, but it did not seem to be enough to alarm the woman of their presence. Michonne left her katana sheathed as she peeked around the side of the house to the neighboring street, but kept her hand on it ready to draw if needed. After taking a look she stepped back to meet eyes with the blonde as the non verbally agreed to move in.
Seconds later Michonne let out a low whistle and they were standing in the street to see a tall woman with dark blonde hair pulled back in a braid that whipped around her head as she turned to face them. Her eyes widened at the two women and she raised her hands in the air, the radio in one crackling as if it was trying to connect with another. "S'il vous plaît, je ne suis pas une menace." She spoke calmly even though her eyes were not. "Je cherche mon neveu. Il s'est enfui à la recherche d'un ami et maintenant ils sont tous les deux partis." (Please, I am not a threat. ; I am looking for my nephew. He ran off to find a friend and now they are both gone.)
Beth couldn't tear her eyes away from the woman's own pair which were filled with apprehension but also something she hadn't seen in someone in a very long time: hope. She didn't move as she asked Michonne, "What did she say?"
It seemed impossible but the woman's eyes grew even larger. "You speak English? You're American?" While she clearly had an accent, she seemed more than fluent in their language. Her gaze darted between the two women before they landed on Beth to appraise her. She looked perplexed before something clicked in her mind and an astonished look grew on her face. "You're the one he sees when he looks at me, aren't you?" she asked. "You know Daryl?"
She forgot how to breathe.