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Bucket Hat — Honestly, Dante deserved far worse. Think Carl was just just sick of his shit.
People came running from the gunshot.
Gabriel was the first through the door.
Later, he told the boys he was planning on doing the same thing.
Told them that Dante was lucky he got a bullet.
It was raining when they left the cell. Rhys spotted Carol across the street.
"It's good," she said as he crossed the road toward her, Carl following behind. "We've wasted enough time already."
"Gabriel said he'll burn the body later today," Rhys told her.
Carol sneered at the idea, beads of rain settling on her bun of tangled grey hair. "We should put his head on a damn spike and stick it on the border."
"We burn him," Carl grunted, rubbing a hand over his face, exhausted. "This doesn't make us them. If we can still find a peaceful end to this, then we do."
Carol snorted at him. "Oh, I'm sure Alpha will jump at the chance for peace after we just executed their spy."
Carl tapped his finger against the gun on his hip impatiently, stood with one knee cocked. It reminded Rhys of how Rick sometimes used to stand.
"I want a peaceful ending," Carl told her after a second of looking over his shoulder at the brownstones. "But we're done taking shit lying down."
He rubbed his hand up Rhys' back before he left for the meeting hall.
Carol turned to Rhys once Carl was gone from earshot.
"He wants peace?"
Rhys rolled his eyes at her stuffy look of disapproval. "We don't have to kill them all."
"She dies," Carol said, chalky and cold. She was like un-lit coal before him. She left.
The ride from Alexandria to the border took long enough and took them far enough that the rain turned to blistering heat.
It was mid-noon by the time they reached their destination. A woodland road that was still partially well kept from the days of the Kingdom using it as their hunting grounds.
Mikey, Carl, Rhys, Aaron, Daryl, and Carol.
That's who came from Alexandria.
Daryl hid his bike in the brush off the dirt road while the others tacked up their horses to trees by plenty of vegetation in case they were gone long.
Aaron helped Mikey down from his horse, Red Polo, who reared his head gently at Mikey with a anxious nicker. Mikey was still weak from the sickness and his fight with Dante, and Rhys figured Red Polo could sense it. Unlike Jenny, he wasn't weak enough that they could confine him to bed rest.
Just on cue, familiar faces appeared from the treeline up ahead.
Connie and Jerry lead the way with Kelly and Magna in tow.
Rhys hugged the first two in the same sequence they appeared in, and gave awkward nods to the others, still upset about the stolen food.
"How's Rosita?" Jerry asked, looking at them all glumly as he swatted a bug off his cherry red t-shirt.
"Mad she couldn't be here," Rhys said.
Magna grimaced at the thought as she broke from her hug with Aaron. "Let's get to it, screw these freaks... I say that in Siddiq's honour."
They made their way on foot from the meeting point, despite the supposed location of the horde still almost a day's walk, they couldn't risk being seen crossing the border now. If they moved that horde... square one was looking bleak.
Up ahead, Daryl thanked Connie for coming, and Rhys spotted what she already had written out in response.
"Anything for us."
Rhys took Carl's hand as they walked behind Mikey and Carol at the back of the group.
Carl squeezed Rhys' fingers between his own before pulling his hand up and pressing his lips against it.
Rhys watched him, finding the brush of his breath comforting against his skin.
"Good out of the bad?" Rhys asked him, wincing.
"Now?" Carl asked.
"Humour me."
"Okay..." Carl sighed, offering a thoughtful smile. "This heat."
"Okay, easy," Rhys said. "A beautiful day."
"No ammo," Carl said.
Rhys smirked at him. "Room to be creative."
"People in skin masks."
"Keeps us on our toes."
Carl snapped his head to Rhys like he knew he'd catch him out with the next one. "How bad this horde's gonna smell."
Rhys laughed. "Proof you believe we'll find the horde!"
Carl grimaced and tutted at him. "Hate this damn game."
"Yeah, 'cause you're a sore loser, Grimes."
They reached the border by nightfall.
It was marked with the same sort of pikes they'd used to parade heads on. As far as they had been able to tell, the entire border was marked with them.
People began to cross, but Carol and Rhys paused to look up at the unsharpened ends of the markers.
Carl tugged on Rhys' hand, leading him over the border.
"It's gonna be okay," Carl whispered, letting go once he'd guided Rhys across, drawing his red-handled machete.
Daryl waited patiently behind Carol until she stepped over the line.
The path was dark and troublesome. It seemed that even the moonlight didn't dare venture here.
Carol almost stepped in a bear-trap concealed under sticks and leaves, Daryl saving her foot at the last second. He stared at her like he was mad.
Carl dropped his bag to crouch down and inspect the rusted teeth poking out from the dirt.
"What do you reckon?" Mikey asked.
"It's old," Carl remarked, peering close enough that Rhys got worried he might lose his nose. "At least the frame is... mechanism's newer. It's been jerry-rigged."
Jerry tutted. "I do not approve."
Connie glanced at Daryl after Kelly translated what was said.
Daryl grunted, nodding in agreement with Carl's assessment.
Magna started walking again. "Let's not waste any more time."
Most followed. Rhys waited for Carl, who was still peering over the bear-trap.
"They laid traps... means we're getting closer," Carol said, nodding towards the trees after. "I saw something out there."
"Will you stop this shit?" Daryl asked her in a drained murmur. "Please."
Carol rolled her eyes, glancing at Rhys who really just wanted to keep walking but Carl was taking his sweet time grabbing his pack up off the floor.
"You want her dead so bad you don't even care what happens to you," Daryl went on.
Carol shuffled uncomfortably, pulling an offended face. "That's not true."
"You never came off that boat," Daryl told her. "It's been like talking to a goddamn ghost."
"Daryl," Carl hissed, standing up at the convenient moment to get involved.
Rhys hated it when he did this. Pretending to be busy so he could snoop in on private conversations. Hated it even more when it dragged him in the middle of them.
"I'm doing the best I can," Carol said quietly to the both of them.
Daryl stepped forward, tapping his chest. "I'm the one you tell. Me."
Carol glanced at Rhys, at Carl, at Daryl last. Her eyes were damp and weary.
"I don't... I don't know how," she whined. It was a quiet and wounded cry.
"You gotta try," Daryl told her. "Alright?"
She sniffed, wiping her nose against her denim jacket.
She nodded quickly.
"C'mere," Daryl said, pulling her into his arms.
Carl grabbed Rhys' arm then, pulling him away and after the others. Rhys watched over his shoulder as Daryl stabbed a stick down onto the bear-trap, causing the jaws to slam shut and split it in two.
"Really?" Rhys hissed at Carl. "You're gonna make me sit through that then pull me away like I was the one dawdling?"
Carl chuckled, throwing an arm over Rhys' shoulder and squeezing him sorry. "Just thought you ought to see that."
"Oh, ought I?" Rhys snorted, shoving Carl's arm off.
Carl nodded. "We're not like that. I'm not. I won't get angry when you don't tell me things."
"I'm not not telling you things."
"Rhys..."
"Carl..."
"I love you, man. I love you like I love a warm bed and Weird Al, but you don't always tell me things."
"Tell you things like what?"
"Like how sad you are about Henry, or how much being on that boat disassociated you from us and everything going on. I love that you wake me up because you want to have sex in the middle of the day, and I love watching you dance to Diana Ross..."
"Mmm," Rhys hummed. "You know I love me some Ross and roll."
"But," Carl cut in, trying not to laugh at his poor attempt at humour, "I also want the sad moments. You're my person, okay? I wanna be your person."
"You are my person," Rhys told him. "And you're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Carl laughed. "...sorry doesn't always make it right."
Rhys gasped at him. "Did you just make a Diana Ross reference?"
"I may have..."
"You referenced the Ross?"
"Okay, Washburne."
Rhys hummed at him. "I see you."
Carl snickered, shaking his head.
"Wait," Rhys said, pausing to think back on the conversation. "You love me like you love Weird Al?"
Carl shrugged. "You know he makes me feel safe."
"I know, but..."
"Rhys." Carl shushed him.
"I'm still the most important guy in your life, right?"
Carl's eye went wide with anxiety. "Don't make me do this to you."
After an hour or so, Rhys left Carl, who had been fixated on the ceaselessly rustling tree-line, and caught up with Magna and Jerry who were quietly chatting about what they'd do if the horde wasn't there.
"We find Lydia," Rhys interrupted, walking between the two.
"Of course, little dude," Jerry said. Rhys could hear his smile in the dark.
"Willing to risk a lot for that girl," Magna grumbled.
"Something you want to say?" Rhys snapped at her.
Rhys may have given her a pass on the stealing, but they had barely spoken since. Not much more than awkward eye contact in the narrowest of Barrington House's hallways.
Magna sniffed, cracking her neck and shooting him a glare.
Rhys glared back.
"Okayyy," Jerry soothed them. "Let's maybe focus on the task at hand?"
Magna nodded before storming off towards Kelly and Connie.
Once she was gone, Aaron fell back to walk with them.
"Rhys, I've been meaning to talk with you about the whole Mary situation."
"Mary?" Rhys asked.
Aaron breathed deeply. "The whisperer I've been speaking with."
"Right," Rhys sighed. "Aaron, listen—"
"I know Earl's not gonna love the idea—"
"Love the idea?" Rhys snorted. "Her people left that baby to die, and she wants to see him? A baby, might I add, that's now his son... his son that's filling a hole left behind by Tammy... another thing done by her people."
Aaron went quiet, dragging his feet on the dirt-worn gravel path.
"I'll make sure you get through the gates with her, man," Rhys went on. "The rest is on you."
The morning came faster than expected— though, no faster than any morning. Rhys' feet ached in his boots, and by the time they reached the edge of the national forest, they saw nothing.
They stood high on a hillside, and they saw nothing.
"God, damn it!" Daryl hissed, marching back the way they came.
Rhys stared out over the sunken field down the hill from them. The grass was tall, not trodden down by a thousand feet. A ghostly layer of morning fog floated over the watery ground.
"Wait!" Aaron called after him.
Daryl spun around, grimacing as he gripped the crossbow strap across his chest. "For what?"
"This doesn't mean Mary lied to us, alright?" Aaron said. "They were protecting this place. They put a trap in the road as a deterrent."
"Yeah, from some hunter a decade ago!"
"That thing was rigged more recently than that and you know it."
Aaron looked at Carl for support, who nodded.
"We can take the time to check," Mikey added. "We're here."
"The herd could have been here... last week or yesterday," Aaron said. "We had an obligation to come check this out."
"Nah," Daryl grunted. "Time to find Lydia."
People seemed to be leaning towards Aaron's side as Daryl started walking away.
"Hey," Rhys called to the people that came from Hilltop. "We're not splitting up... you heard him, let's move."
Connie, Kelly, and Jerry followed quickly, Magna when she seemed to realise she didn't get a say. When Carl followed, the other three fell in line.
The river that divided their land from the whisperers was nearby, and they met it where it was at its narrowest in the forest.
"Lydia would have taken this river downstream," Daryl told everyone. "Back to our side."
Rhys followed behind the others but noticed someone missing. When he glanced around for Carol he saw her standing off the path a few feet back, staring out of the tree-line into a meadow beyond.
"Hey, Carol, let's go," Daryl called after noticing, too.
"You go on," Carol called over her shoulder, slowly moving closer to the opening. "I'll meet you."
"Carol," Mikey called. "We can't just split up on their side."
But Rhys saw it, too.
Before anyone else.
Crouched beside a bush across the meadow.
Alpha.
Carol and Rhys' feet moved at the same time. Like two legs to the same body. Moved by the same mind. They sprinted forward.
Alpha took off running in the opposite direction, dashing into the forest on the far side of the meadow. But before she did, Rhys could be certain he saw a wicked smile.
That joy she felt hurting them.
Toying with them.
He'd felt that same joy the other day when he had played with Dante before the end.
"Wait up!" Daryl yelled.
"Rhys!" Carl barked.
They chased after them, but Rhys and Carol were far ahead. They cut through the long grass of the wide-spanning field, down a hill that made them feel like they were running a hundred miles an hour, leaping over a fallen tree in the forest and ducking past low-hanging branches.
Alpha stayed ahead of them, but they didn't lose sight of her.
Carol grabbed Rhys' arm before he tumbled into a ditch, she pointed to where Alpha disappeared into some kind of cave or cavern ahead.
They leapt down into the ditch, scrambling up the other side.
The ground raised up where she had disappeared, wooden beams lifting the earth up like you do with a carpet when cleaning, inviting them under the earth's heavy surface, giving them just enough to slide under.
A mine.
Rhys followed Carol in, watching her faded denim become swallowed in darkness.
She struck a match.
There were tracks under their feet for carts, one just ahead— rusted and full of rocks dressed in mossy coats.
They moved further in.
It smelt earthy and wet.
Rhys could hear Carol's shallow breaths ahead of him.
He watched the light on her match burn low.
He readied an arrow in his bow, his own breath shaking.
The earth shook, and Carol shrieked as the ground gave out — or it was gone to begin with — they plummeted into the earth's belly.
A wisp of air extinguished the match. They tumbled down a slope, leaving it entirely for what felt like an eternity too long before they bounced off a rock face and landed in a heap.
Deep beneath the surface.
Swallowed by the earth.
But something else had been swallowed.
Something loud.
Something hellish.
Rhys pushed himself off of Carol where he had landed, and helped her to her feet. They both stood on the rock plateau and squinted into the darkness that reached out into the open and seemingly endless cave.
Hundreds of them.
"It's them," Rhys murmured.
Thousands.
"It's the horde."
A/N
Rest in piece to sweet Dog (Seven). Was heartbroken to hear the news :(