Reviews:
SlumberingVoid — Nice to hear from you. Barrington is such a sad loss, agreed. Not only for the house's history, but also just how much history HT had for our survivors. Hilltop will always be my favourite community.
Bucket Hat — Biggest loss since the heads on spikes for me.
"Hold still," Earl huffed with an exhausted grit in his throat, grabbing the side of Rhys' head when he jerked back from the rough cloth Earl was using to cool the burn on his neck.
Rhys watched Judith as she paced around the other kids with her sword drawn. The kids all sat a few feet from them on the steep slope of the clearing they'd taken a break in, a narrow stream at the bottom that would give them a little room to breathe if any walkers were to stumble upon them. The children stayed huddled together as Rhys had instructed, most of them sniffling back tears. The others just waiting silently to be told what was next. Rhys' gut ached knowing how traumatised all of them must have been, even the strongest of them.
"Sorry," Earl said softer after a moment of holding the cloth to Rhys' neck. "Didn't have anything better than this old rag."
"It's fine," Rhys croaked, pushing Earl's hand back and stumbling to his feet. "We need to keep moving."
Rhys took a step forward only to fall against a tree, clutching the bark to stay up.
"You're lucky for that armour," Earl said, jabbing Rhys in the back. "Stopped that knife going too deep. But we still need to get that arrowhead out of you. The patch job I gave you's only gonna last—"
"When we get there," Rhys groaned.
A few of the kids reared their heads. Jerry's eldest, Ezra, looked at Rhys with tears in his hazel eyes, round and wet as he spoke.
"Rhys... where's our mom and dad? Did they make it out?"
Rhys nodded before Ezra had even finished, clearing his throat and giving them all a wide and, what he hoped was a convincing smile. He wasn't sure where inside him he summoned it from. "Of course, they did."
"Did you see them?" Aliyah, the middle child, asked.
Rhys stood with his mouth ajar for a moment, not sure if lying to take the pain away now was worth the agony they might be subjected to later.
"'Course," Earl said quickly, marching over and crouching down beside the frightened children. "D'you really think any of your parents would be stopped by a little heard like that? What do you say we make it to the safe house and meet them there?"
Rhys let out a sigh of relief as everyone started to find their feet with the help of the newfound hope of seeing their parents again. He put his head back against the tree he was leant against, looking up at the morning sky. He fished Glenn's pocket watch from the back of his jeans — five minutes past dawn. They had no water, food, or anything to tell them where they were going besides Rhys' knowledge of these woods. Earl glanced at him, and Rhys pointed in the right direction but signalled for him to wait.
"Jude, do me a favour," Rhys beckoned her over. Then in a quieter voice, so the other kids wouldn't hear, he said, "Take the others down to that stream there to clean up. We won't be more than two steps behind you. Just need to speak to Earl."
Judith nodded firmly, swapping her katana hand to take her brother's, leading him down the short slope toward the stream only a few feet away. She called, "C'mon guys, let's get this muck off us."
Rhys waited until they were all out of earshot, both him and Earl keeping a keen eye on them as he began to speak from the corner of his mouth, his breaths short.
"There's a small safe house between here and the meeting point. Supplies. A door we can lock."
Earl mumbled something stubborn under his breath, and Rhys was glad he hadn't heard it.
"Their parents won't be there..." Earl told him then. "These kids need—"
"They need to make it," Rhys cut him off harshly, clutching his side. "They won't make it to the safe house. I don't even know if I would. Zeke and a few others know about this place... they'll find us."
Earl frowned, but, thankfully, he also nodded, biting back the worn grimace and wrinkling his nose. "Think Ezekiel made it out?"
Rhys took his time thinking about his answer to that, not sure if he wanted to be honest right now — in that time he took, Judith called up to them that she could see a small pack of walkers that had picked up their trail.
"Let's move," Rhys called out softly, sliding down the slope and grabbing RJ's hand. "Everyone grab a buddy and follow me, okay?"
They made it to the safe house within the hour. Rhys had noticed that, like him, Earl was getting slower, his breaths shallower. The safe house was a humble utility building Sasha had picked out years ago to stow a less-than-generous supply of spare hunting gear. Two rooms inside, both no bigger than the inside of an RV. Rhys raised onto his tiptoes to peak through a broken window covered with a rusted chainlink. Nothing moved or breathed.
After Rhys and Earl secured the two small rooms inside, they ushered everyone into the concrete hut as fast as they could. It stank of damp stone and rot, the fresh air seemingly cut off after Earl secured the door with a chair. Rhys' heart sank as he searched for their supplies and only found what they'd hidden fairly well to still be there. He passed Earl a canteen of stale water with a few tin cups and a couple of MREs that had been stashed under the floorboards. He did also find a small first-aid kit stuffed behind a cabinet, clinging to it for dear life.
They had to stay quiet as the group of walkers that had been following them passed by. Rhys was confident if any Whisperers were among them, they would have checked this place.
"I'll take first watch," Earl said hoarsely after turning down a drink from Judith, patting Rhys' back as he moved into the next room and draped across the small curtain that acted as a divider for the doorway between two rooms.
Rhys sat on the damp floor with his back to the wall by the door, Sasha's rifle propped beside him as he watched everyone at the other end of the room and tried not to let his eyes close in fear of sleep sneaking up on him. He had the leather tube he'd save from the fire on his lap. Judith sat on the floor with RJ, her arm around his shoulder as she spoke over his head to Gracie, who was squeezed onto a dusty leather armchair with Aliyah in the corner. Aliyah's siblings were at her feet, all of them clutching their cups like they were their only possessions in the whole world — Rhys supposed, that for the time being, they were.
He didn't drift off. He knew he didn't. But, still, Rhys jolted when someone tapped his shoulder. He looked up to RJ. He was clutching his hands together and looking at his feet.
"You okay, little man?"
RJ nodded.
"Need to pee?"
He shook his head.
Out of ideas, Rhys frowned. "What's up?"
RJ took a second to swallow, glancing at the door, then to Rhys.
"Is Carl okay?"
Rhys smiled wide and toothy, tears in his eyes as he nodded. "Can I tell you a secret?"
RJ nodded again.
"Your big brother is invincible."
RJ smiled but shook his head. "He's not."
"Sure he is," Rhys said firmly.
"Is it a big sibling power?" RJ asked.
Rhys winced as he thought about Sasha out there. "I sure hope so, man."
Rhys groaned as he stood up, passing the leather tube he'd been cradling to RJ.
"Now, I can trust you to be in charge of this, can't I?"
"What is it?" RJ asked curiously, taking it to his hands with care.
"We all signed a treaty not that long ago," Rhys told him, tapping the tube. "One that says we've all got to be there for each other when we need it."
"And this is that?"
"Sure is."
Rhys ruffled his hand through RJ's hair before quietly picking up his rifle and lifting the curtain to pass through to the next room.
Earl was sitting at the rotting wooden table in the middle of the room. Rhys made sure the curtain was pulled all the way across before going any further.
Earl's face was pale and blotchy when he met Rhys' eye. Purple veins had grown across his face, and his hand was shaking as it hid a spot of blood on the sleeve covering his forearm.
"Rhys, I—"
"I know," Rhys said, his voice breathy, trying to stay as quiet as he was able. "I know. I figured it out just before we got here."
"I'm sorry," Earl whispered. "I thought it would just make it more complicated if I told you."
"If you'd said something," Rhys croaked, his eyes brimming with tears as Earl rolled up his sleeve to reveal the teeth marks sunken into his flesh. "We could have done something..."
"What? You could have taken my arm off?" he asked, his voice trembling between raspy breaths. "I've had my time, son."
"Damn it, Earl," Rhys hissed, pushing away a tear that rolled down his cheek. "It was meant to mean something."
"It did mean something," Earl growled back. "It did. We got those kids out."
Rhys could feel his heart breaking as it pounded against his ribcage. He tried to swallow his tears, tried to push down the guilt he felt every time this happened.
"Hilltop was meant to be different," Rhys cried quietly.
"It was, son," Earl soothed. "It was for so many years."
Rhys watched him. His chin shook. "And what does it mean now?"
"A whole damn lot," Earl groaned as his arm bled across the dust-covered table. "I got a second chance with my Tammy. I had time to raise my boy. It gave me Enid and Alden. It saved Adam. Hilltop means a whole damn lot, Rhys. Don't you ever forget that."
Rhys gasped, trying to stop crying, always having felt like Earl was one of those people not to cry in front of. Like he'd mark it down against you for being so silly.
"Now I need you to do something for me," Earl said, ignoring Rhys' sobs as his eyes fell, instead, to the rifle in his white-knuckled grip. "I need you to send me to them."
"Fuck," Rhys choked, pressing a sleeve to his eye and nodding. "Yeah, of course."
"You lied..."
They both looked to the curtain behind Rhys, where Judith stood under the hat her brother left her with.
She wrinkled her nose as her eyebrows knitted together. She looked so sad as she stared at the bite on Earl's arm.
"I did it to protect you," Earl said.
Judith's tears started to fall. "You can't do this..."
"I don't have much choice, sweetheart."
Judith stepped closer, standing just behind Rhys. "I can stay here, too. I don't want you to feel alone."
"Oh, honey, I'm not alone," Earl chuckled weakly. "I have Tammy and my son. Alden will take good care of Adam. And you, Judith... you're so strong. So brave. You need to help Rhys keep those kids safe for me... so, just go back out there and make sure they're not scared like I know you're not. Rhys will be right in."
"It's okay, Judy," Rhys croaked, wiping his face and clearing his throat from the misery that clogged it. "You go on now."
Judith slowly retreated back behind the curtain.
Earl met Rhys' stare, managing a painful chuckle.
"What?" Rhys asked quietly.
"We've come a hell of a long way, haven't we?" Earl sighed, leaning back in his chair as his strength slowly drained with each wince of pain. "Since you kicked my ass that night."
"I'm sorry," Rhys breathed.
"Don't be," Earl whispered, his eyes barely open. "I was being an asshole."
Rhys' chest shook and rattled as he laughed, another tear rolling down his soot-covered face.
"You're a hell of a kid," Earl wheezed. "I know you always hated it when Tammy called you Rhee, but damn if you didn't act like her. Don't let this break you, boy. Find your sister. Find your momma. Find Carl... and save those kids."
Earl's breathing slowed. He gently closed his eyes and nodded.
Rhys held his nerve, raised his rife, and—
CHOOK.
The smell of red iron was thick in the little room.
It spilt from the cracks in the table.
It made a dark blot in the blanket Rhys had put over Earl.
His boots had red on them.
"Rhys?"
Rhys sat up from his spot against the wall behind Earl's body, letting go of his knees, which he'd had cradled to his aching chest. "Judith, don't—"
She walked closer anyway, her eyes wide and fixed on Earl's covered body slumped back in the chair. Rhys hadn't had the strength to move him. To lay him down or dignify him like he deserved.
Judith stepped around the body and sat beside Rhys, who settled back against the wall. He wiped his face.
"You're crying," Judith told him.
"I know," he said quietly. "Sorry."
"No, don't be," she told him. "Carl doesn't cry, so it's nice."
"Oh, he cries," Rhys said, thinking he'd maybe meant to laugh somewhere along the way of saying that.
"He doesn't let me see," Judith told him. "I think it's important to cry."
"Why's that?"
"Because then we know it was worth it."
Rhys wrapped an arm around her, and she settled against his shoulder, careful not to put weight against where he'd been stabbed. The brim of her hat poked his nose and it smelt like Carl.
"I kept thinking about Mom," Judith told him. "While everyone was fighting... I felt bad, but I'm so worried about her."
"Never feel bad about caring that much."
"I know, but—"
"You remember your Aunt Tara?" Rhys asked over her.
Judith nodded against his shoulder.
"I couldn't stop thinking about her before the fight. Lots of other people too, sure. But Tara most of all."
"Why her?" Judith asked it in such a curious and sweet way that Rhys smiled.
"Did you know that when you were small... like, really small... she was terrible with you?"
"I didn't."
"Oh yeah, back before we found Alexandria, you would never eat if she was the one trying to feed you. I remember this one time, we were camped in this parking lot for some time, and she called you... 'Little Jude-Dude'. It was so stupid. I asked her about it, and she said... everyone's a dude, dude." Rhys felt a little bad as he imitated Tara's voice but found something comforting in it all the same. "I found her so funny. Like the kind of funny that you don't even laugh at because it's so constant that you just take it for granted. The other night, I was thinking about Tara... how I took having her in my life for granted. How much I wish I could tell her I thought she was funny."
"Moral of the story," Judith said slowly. "Don't feel bad about who you think about."
"Something like that," Rhys answered.
"Got you."
"We should go check on the others," Rhys sighed.
"I don't think they should see you cry," Judith told him.
"No," Rhys agreed. "No, I don't think so either."
He tried to stand up, pushing his back against the dirty wall, but the strength that got him there seemed to be gone. He slumped back.
"Are you okay?" Judith asked, her voice tight with concern.
Rhys nodded. "Just need a minute." His eyes drifted up to the table by Earl, the first aid kit he'd found, sitting where he'd left it. He looked back at Judith and asked, "Can you get me that?"
She got up and slowly moved around Earl with care, retrieving the small red tin and bringing it back, kneeling in front of Rhys.
"Thank you," he said.
Judith flipped the tin open, and Rhys felt lucky when he saw it was fully stocked. He told her to pull out the gauze pads and a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, watching as she unscrewed the cap with shaky hands before soaking the pad. Rhys struggled with the binds holding his armour to him, groaning as the pressure of how tightly Carl had fastened it finally gave. Rhys pulled off the dirty cuirass and his flannel shirt, then rolled up his t-shirt to inspect the purple skin that had swollen around his wound.
"Does it hurt?" Judith asked.
"Like a bitch," Rhys admitted.
"Language," she huffed, her hands still shaking as she dabbed the gauze against Rhys' side, wincing when he yelped.
"You're doing great, little dude," Rhys encouraged her, gritting his teeth until it hurt. "Now, are there some forceps in there? They look like big tweezers."
Judith nodded after digging around for a second, pulling them out much to Rhys' relief.
"I really didn't fancy using a knife," he sighed.
Rhys quickly snatched up the bottle of rubbing alcohol that Judith had placed on the floor, pouring a generous amount over the forceps in Judith's outstretched hand before taking them in his own.
Judith grimaced. "Do you know what you're doing?"
Rhys tried to appear confident as he looked at her and smiled weakly. "I've done it before. Not on myself."
Judith took the bottle from Rhys, putting it down and biting her nails. She watched Rhys anxiously as he peered down at his stomach and positioned his instrument alongside the lower half of his abdomen.
His vision went white as the metal slid between the flaps of his wound.
Rhys focused hard on trying not to make any grunts or cries in response to the awful pain he felt entering his own body. Determined not to give the kids any more terrible memories today. He knew when he had it — feeling a sharp pressure push against his hand. He grimaced, tears squeezing out the corners of his creased eyes as he managed to get a hold of the arrowhead and slowly draw it out.
Judith gave a small gasp when Rhys finally retrieved the small metal point, dropping it, and the blood-soaked forceps, to the floor.
Judith quickly pressed the gauze pad back to his side, apologising when he winced.
"We did good," Rhys said, breathing deeply as he pushed his head back against the wall. "You did good, Jude."
It wasn't long before they were found by Ezekiel, Daryl, Jerry, and some of the other parents who were out searching for them. Thankfully, due to his side, Rhys didn't have to endure any of the rib-crushing hugs some of them tried to bestow upon him, settling instead for tearful thank-yous. He just nodded along and tried to breathe.
Rhys sat on the steps outside while Jerry and Ezekiel turned the place upside down for any supplies Rhys might have missed.
"Daryl," Rhys caught his attention after he finished applying a band-aid to a small nick on Gracie's cheek, the little girl sat on a tree stump with RJ.
Daryl approached him slowly, squinting behind his matted curtains.
"You two did good," Daryl said. "Getting them out."
"I'm gonna take him back," Rhys said. "Earl. I've got to take him back and bury him."
Daryl nodded. "I'll help you bury him out back—"
"No," Rhys cut in, his voice dry and desperate for water. "He needs to be with Tammy and Ken. I need to get him back to Hilltop."
"Rhys—"
"I'm doing it."
"I need your help here, man," Daryl said sharply and quietly. "We gotta get these kids to the rendezvous. Gotta make sure everyone else is okay."
Rhys swallowed, blinking away tears. He nodded. "Who else made it?"
"So far?" Daryl's face was grim. "What you see here. Plus Rosita, Dianne, Nabila... a few others, but..."
"But?"
"Carl and Sasha haven't shown up. Carol, neither. Eugene, Jenny, Yumiko. None of 'em."
Rhys felt like he could puke.
"I need you to come back with me now," Daryl told him, kneeling to his level on the steps and gripping his shoulder. "Hilltop's not safe."
The rendezvous was an ancient cabin deep in the forest. It was the perfect spot. Hidden well and looked like nothing worth searching, with its peeling boards and smashed windows.
Dianne was on watch, stood out on the rickety porch. She looked so relieved that Rhys thought she might collapse when she spotted them with all the safe kids. Rhys accepted the hug she forced onto him, holding her back when she didn't let go.
"Thank god you're all okay," she said, pulling away to look him up and down. "Thank god."
Rhys left her to greet Ezekiel, heading inside. It stank of rot and dead possums. The stairs had fallen through, and the living room was more forest than room with its vine-covered walls and floor carpeted in dead leaves snuck in through the broken windows.
Rhys found Rosita in what was probably once a dining room but lacked any furniture that would indicate it. The scratch marks from the living room led Rhys to the sofa Rosita was slumped on. She pulled herself up when she saw him but fell back down when he latched onto her.
"Hey, manito," she gasped into his shoulder, her hands clutching fistfuls of his shirt.
Rhys didn't say anything. He just clung to her shoulder and didn't let go.