Spider Monkey

Chapter Eighty - Three - Dinner And A Show

Dog barking was what greeted Hedley as he found Daryl's camp. Daryl was mixing some food over a small fire, licking his fingers when seeing his kid come by.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Dog ran up to Hedley, who quickly got on his knees to pet the dog, chuckling at the kisses that were suddenly wetting his face. Stimming with his toes, loving the softness of the dog's fur. 

Daryl huffed, whistled and Dog stopped, going to his master and sitting.

Hedley took a seat in front of his father, the fire in between them.

"How's Carl 'n' Lil' Asskicker?"

"Good. Judith is getting taller, now runs everywhere. I can hardly keep up." Hedley smirked, fingers drumming with joy when remembering.

"And Carl?"

"He has news. Well, we do."

Daryl took the food from above the fire and dropped it into a tin bowl, "Good or bad?"

"Depends who you ask." Hedley sighed, "Carl's decided to execute Negan."

Daryl froze, looking at his son with narrow eyes, "And you're okay with that?"

"Yes. We've spoken about it a lot. He's gonna hang him in two days. When Michonne's back." He wiggled his toes, stimming with unease. "It's a good thing. He's just another mouth to feed. Using resources on him is a waste."

"Have ya told Maggie?" Daryl put his food down, suddenly not hungry. Dog ate from it.

"Tara and Rosita were sent out with the message. We'll hear what she thinks tomorrow when they return."

"Okay." Daryl nodded, standing, "Let's head back."

"You're coming home?" Hedley bounced up, stimming with happiness.

"For now. I don't wanna miss the show."

****

It was night.

It was cold.

Yet people stood proudly as they crowded round the makeshift stage.

Carl stood up, voice loud, "People of Alexandria, Hilltop and Kingdom. We have all done something horrible in order to survive this world. When our backs were against walls and it was life or death. We have all suffered loss. Whether it was a mother, father," His voice cracked at the words but kept strong, "Sister, Brother, Son, Daughter, Wife," He looked out into the crowd and found Maggie's eyes, "Husband... Or just a dear friend. Tonight is about honouring our fallen! About taking justice! About proving to those who we've lost, that their deaths meant something!" Cheers called from the crowd.

Hedley watched beside Daryl as Carl went towards where Negan was standing. His hands tied behind his back with four armed guards.

"This man right here, is the reason for so many deaths! What he did wasn't for survival! It wasn't because his back was against a wall! It was for cold blooded pleasure! He sang and danced and taunted a pregnant woman moments after killing her husband right in front of her! It was an act of dictatorship! He thought himself a God... but look at him now."

More cheers from the crowd.

Carl took the noose that hung from the beam above and wrapped it tightly around Negan's neck.

"Negan, I sentence you to death by hanging. Are there any last words you'd like to say?"

Negan started to laugh, "Your daddy teach you those words? Where is daddy this evening - Oh. That's right. Sorry. I forgot."

Carl smiled, showing too much teeth, "What a waste of last words." He tied cloth around Negan's mouth, forcing him to be silent. Negan muffled and thrashed but he wasn't going anywhere.

The crowd cheered more, voices shouting with tearful praise.

Maggie was crying, chest panting as she remained straight.

Carl went to the leather that was to the doors below Negan's feet. He was about to grab it but locked eyes with Maggie once more. Carl nodded then offered her his hand, gesturing to her to join him. She did, going up and grabbing the leather alone. Carl nodded to her again, telling her to pull whenever she was ready.

Negan's eyes landed on Maggie's. He had a look of shock and plea. It made her smile.

"This is for Glenn. For Abraham. For Merle. For everyone you killed. And for us who you left behind."

Negan shouted under the cloth.

"See you in hell, you son of a bitch!" She yelled, pulling the leather and suddenly, Negan fell. He dangled, thrashing desperately. It took him a while to die which was fitting.

He deserved to suffer. And he did.