I stumble down the cellar steps first, bursting through a second door at the bottom. Daryl shuts it behind him when he's the last through. A crack in the door by its hinges lets in enough light for us to make out the shape of the storeroom. Its small, cold stone walls are stuffed full of shelves of vegetables and wooden boxes.
I help Maggie scrape a set of shelves away from another, stacking a barrel on top of another to add extra space to hide behind. Maggie pushes me past the shelf, my back hitting up against the one behind me, toppling off a jar of pickles that I manage to catch before it smashes.
Daryl's peeking through the door with his knife in hand.
"Daryl," Maggie hisses as she squeezes between the shelves with me.
He closes the door and watches through a keyhole.
"Daryl," Maggie whispers again. "Daryl..."
He joins us at the back of the room, pulling the shelf in front of us back into place. The three of us barely fit in the shadows, a streak of light from the door lighting up Daryl's face and reflecting off his knife. It smells of dust and dirt, and it's cold enough to make my teeth chatter.
I hear Enid above us.
"Hi!" she sounds out of breath. "Uh... I've got fresh veggies if—"
She must be trying to distract a Savior.
"Stop," the Savior says in a deep and patronising voice that makes him sound like more of an asshole than most of them seem to be by default. "They're vegetables. Use the whole word. We have time."
"Okay..." Enid hums to him. "I have these vegetables they told me to bring over, uh... and the basket's pretty heavy. For me, I mean. Probably not you. Here! Load them in the truck, and, uh, if you meet me by the garden, I can get you the rest—"
"Stop," the Savior groans. "I don't know who you think I am or who we are. Load them yourself. I'm busy."
Something thuds to the ground outside.
"Oh, sorry. I'm sorry!"
"Girl, pick that shit up right now and scram! And I'll take that knife on your hip. Now. Don't make me cut it off you, girl."
Everything's quiet until the room gets a little lighter and we hear the cellar's doors squeak open. Footsteps trot down the cobbled steps. The door creaks open.
The guy walks in, his silhouette lit up by the light that followed him down. He has a grey beanie on his head and a short black beard helping obscure his face in the shadows. He glances around the room, Maggie pulling me back from the shelves, careful not to let me hit the pickles this time. The Savior picks up an onion from a full basket, sniffs it, then puts it back. He takes the basket and another box, looking around again, inching closer to our hiding spot.
Maggie shifts further back beside me.
Daryl stays in the light.
I see Enid's knife on the guy's belt and feel my blood boil.
The Savior spots something on the shelves in front of me, putting down everything else to reach up and grab it. If he'd taken the crate below, we would have met eye-to-eye.
Daryl suddenly raises his knife, shifting through the shelves towards the Savior. Maggie's hand finds his shoulder, holding him back. She doesn't let go until the Savior's gone and the door is shut.
Daryl rushes out, checking through the keyhole to see that he's really gone.
Maggie steps out, too, sighing deeply. "You were gonna kill that guy."
"He was gonna find us," Daryl says quietly, keeping his eyes on the door, his back to us.
"He wasn't," Maggie tells him, "and he didn't."
Daryl hangs his head, his back still facing us.
"He deserved to die," he mutters.
"Ever since you got here, you haven't said a word to either of us. Every time I try to talk to you, you barely say anything back." Maggie takes a small step towards him. "Would you look at me? Please."
He turns around, and he's crying. Daryl Dixon. The person that makes us feel safe because he's ready for when things go wrong is crying. He struggles to look at anyone, but when his eyes meet ours, I know then that it's not fear or rage that brings Daryl to tears. It's guilt.
"Daryl..." Maggie steps towards him.
"I'm sorry," he gasps, all the sadness and heartache built so high that even he can't hold it in. He keeps looking between us. "I'm sorry."
Even when Mikey had explained it to me, he was worried about how I'd react. He told me how Daryl struck out at Negan in that clearing. Negan killed Glenn as punishment. I wasn't angry then, and I'm not now. And when Maggie speaks next, she sums up everything I feel so I don't have to.
"It wasn't your fault."
"It was," Daryl sniffles and whimpers, head bowed like a child in trouble.
"No," Maggie says. "It wasn't."
Daryl glances at me, and I just nod because I know I'll cry if I speak too. I know that all I need to do is nod for Daryl to understand what I feel. I know that Daryl is fluent in the silent language that we use when we're too upset to talk.
"You're one of the good things in this world. That's what Glenn thought. And he would know 'cause he was one of the good things, too."
Then Maggie cries, and I feel like the odd one out, so I let it go, too. Keeping quiet but letting them see it.
Maggie composes herself, wiping her eyes against her shirt sleeves. "And I wanted to kill that guy, too. I want to string them all up and watch them die. But we have to win."
She holds him tight and lets him bury his tears into her shoulder.
"Help me win," she whispers.
Daryl nods.
Maggie reaches out and pulls me into them.
"I need you both to help me win."
-Enid's POV-
I stand and wait for the Savior to come back up from the cellar, nervously biting at the already chewed sleeve of my sweater. When he appears, he's carrying a box of crops and doesn't look like he just found three people hiding down there.
"Girl," he growls, "I thought I said scram!"
"Right," I chuckle nervously again — a bag of nerves all I'm good for today. "I'll go."
"Nah-ah-ah," he hums, shoving the box— that actually is really heavy —into my arms. "Take it to the pickup truck."
I nod, taking my time and going slow until I'm sure he's not going back into the cellar.
I keep my head down as I pass Saviors, casually checking faces to see if any of them were in Alexandria when I was.
I drop the crate when I see Dr Carson being marched out of the medical trailer by two armed Saviors. Simon follows behind with his hands planted on his hips and a sick grin twisting up his moustache.
"Don't worry about your gauze pads and splint sticks," Simon sings as Carson is made to sit in the back of Simon's black truck; smoke chugging from the giant beast's exhaust. "We've got plenty and plenty back at home. Not to mention ice cream! We have a lady that makes cardamom gelato! Shit you not."
Jesus appears beside me and helps as I start picking up all the loose potatoes that spilt from the crate I dropped. My heart sinks, weighed down with panicked thoughts of Maggie's baby and all the other people here that need the doctor. I think it can't possibly get any worse. Then I hear screaming. Something loud smashing. I spin to face Barrington. I see a Savior dragging Mikey out by the hair.
"Get off!" he shouts, twisting and pulling in the much bigger guy's grip.
"Woah-hey-whoa!" Simon laughs as the Savior dumps Mikey at his feet.
No.
"Why so rough, Trev?" Simon grins.
Jesus has the same face I do. The same face Gregory and Carson get. Pure dread leaking from our wide eyes.
"Simon, ain't this the kid from career day?"
"Pfft," Simon sighs, shaking his head. "Too long ago for me to remember."
"Nah, I mean Alexandria's career day."
Simon's smile flickers out and melts off his face, retreating under his drooping moustache. He bends to a squat in front of Mikey, who pulls himself to his knees in the dirt when the Savior that dragged him out takes his boot off his back.
Everything and everyone is dead silent.
Then Simon opens his mouth. "The crying kid, right?"
Mikey looks at him, unable to look at us in case gives even more away.
"Now, why in the shit would you be here?" Simon asks. "You assholes at the sleepy burg know about Hilltop?"
Mikey chokes on words.
"Simon!" Gregory skips into the conversation with his mouth agape. "Are you telling me that this— this boy is from one of your other settlements?"
Simon rises to his feet, glaring at Gregory the same way I imagine Negan did before he killed Spencer and Olivia. "Gregory..." he growls, "I need you to be extra honest with me at this moment. How do you happen to have this kid behind your walls? Are you... conspiring, Gregory?"
"No, no, sir. Not me, not Hilltop, not ever. This boy... he— he turned up at our gates only the other day... seeking refuge. How could I turn a child away?"
Simon spins on the spot teeth bared, eyes like a wild bear. "Bullshit!" he roars suddenly. "And he just happened to stumble—"
"You think I'd stay!" Mikey yells suddenly, eyes on the floor like he wishes he hadn't.
Simon looks down at him, still steaming from the ears. "Come again?"
Mikey trembles as he looks up. But he does look up. Meeting Simon's flaming eyes. "You— you people killed my brother. Do you think I'd stay there? Rick... he said we couldn't fight back... he said we have to listen to you. He's a coward! So I left."
There's a lump in my throat I can't swallow. I look at Jesus, and he shakes his head at me a little.
"Then tell me how you found this place," Simon asks. He seems calmer, like he's buying Mikey's story better.
Mikey's eyes don't flicker for a second before he answers. "I overheard some of your guys talking about it last time you were at Alexandria. They mentioned Hilltop. I figured another community under your thumb would want to fight..." Then Mikey's eyes go to me, then to Jesus, then finally to Gregory, who he grimaces at. "Guess I was wrong."
Simon claps his hands together after a second of biting his lip and showing his teeth. "Well, that is the cutest story that we will verify at a later date." He points at Mikey. "Load him up."
I want to scream. I want to run and scratch and grab and bite. I want to help. Jesus knows it because he puts a hand on my shoulder when I start drifting from him. We watch as Mikey is loaded next to Carson in the back of the pickup.
Simon stares at me then. My mind races to think if he should recognise me.
"Wanna put that in the truck, sweetheart?" he asks. "I love potatoes. The only thing better is Hilltop sorghum."
I nod, moving past him. Mikey watches me, pushing his glasses up his nose as I put the crate by his feet. We don't speak. We don't let the lights in our eyes spark. We just see each other.
"Let's get going!" Simon barks.
Then they do. Mikey and Carson are disappearing. Then they're gone, and I can't see him.
-Rhys' POV-
We wait until we hear the Saviors trucks roll out, so many that the shelves down here shake a little. Even when it goes quiet, we stay put, only coming out when Enid comes to get us. She is angry enough about her knife that she doesn't notice that we've all clearly been crying. I say sorry about the knife once we're all outside. She looks at me like I just reminded her of something she totally forgot. Before I can ask, Maggie is marching up to Gregory and Jesus on the porch of Barrington house. We all follow.
"They shouldn't have been here for another two days," Maggie barks at everyone.
"They came for Dr Carson," Jesus says, scowling at Gregory.
"And you just handed him over?!" Daryl barks.
"I didn't really have a choice," Gregory chuckles, holding up his hands.
"Maggie needs him for the baby!" I yell.
"Excuse me, boy?" Gregory glares at me. "We haven't even had the chance to discuss you sneaking in under my nose."
"I didn't sneak in." I roll my eyes at him. "Kal opened the gate."
"Well, Kal's not in charge of this place." Gregory stands with his legs spread apart and his hands on his hips like he's trying to impersonate superman. "And the same goes for you, Donnie."
"It's Daryl!" I yell at him.
"Rhys, it's okay," Maggie says through her teeth.
"No!" I shout. An audience of Hilltoppers gathering around us. "What are we gonna do if something happens with the baby? This asshole will probably just try and kick you out again."
"Excuse me!" Gregory barks.
"What?" I stare at him.
Gregory huffs at Jesus when he doesn't say anything to me in his defence.
"You best not talk to me like that, boy."
"Rhys."
"Sure," he scoffs at me.
I fold my arms at him.
"All you people have been sleeping here, free of charge, might I add!" Gregory looks around at us. "Well, enough is enough! No more. Too many of you are in Jesus' trailer. It's a fire hazard! And no more free rides on the teat... I have written up job assignments for all seven of you, effective immediat—"
"What exactly is your job?" Daryl pitches in. "Except struttin' round like some damn king."
I laugh. Ezekiel could eat this guy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Gregory goes as red as Hilltop tomatoes. "I think you'll find I—"
"They took Mikey!" Enid suddenly bellows over all of us, looking ready to burst into tears.
"What?" Maggie gasps.
"No..." I murmur.
Enid looks around at us, eyes glassy and full. She covers her mouth with her sleeve before running off to our trailer.
"They recognised him," Jesus tells us.
"Dammit!" Daryl barks, kicking a bucket of chicken feed; corn flying everywhere. "You let them take a kid!" Daryl marches towards Gregory.
Jesus steps between them. "As much as I hate to say it... Gregory did the best thing for us. He said that Mikey just showed up. Mikey sold it, and I don't think the Saviors know that we're in league with Alexandria."
"I did!" Gregory nods. "And if you dare approach me like that again, I will make sure that you—"
"Wait," Maggie cuts him off mid-explosion, causing Gregory to throw his hands in the air and storm back inside. "Seven of us?"
She notices my face fall.
"Rhys..." she sighs, sounding irritated. "Who else is here?"
"Rosita..." I scratch the back of my head.
Daryl looks equally pissed.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks.
Before I can speak, Enid's running back out of the trailers.
"Guys!" she yells.
"More Saviors?" Jesus asks.
"No," she pants, trying to speak and catch her breath simultaneously. "Sasha... I can't find Sasha or—" she pauses, glancing at Maggie and Daryl.
"They know," I say.
"Rosita's gone, too," Enid finishes.