Playing With Fire (A Merle Dixon Story)

Chapter Eighteen

Merle

Patience. Never somethin’ that had been easy for me. Never somethin’ I had found particularly useful neither. How did that sayin’ go? Patience is a virtue? My ass it was a virtue. Anyone who said that had never had anythin’ important waitin’ on ‘em. I was gettin’ pretty damn tired of waitin’ around…of bein’ the good little boy the governor wanted me to be. I’d play his game a little bit longer, but if he didn’t gimme what I needed to find Daryl soon, well then I guess then it would be time to start doin’ things the Merle way.

I rapped my knuckles loudly on the wooden door. There was the sound of a chair scrapin’ against the floor, then the click of a lock before the door swung open.  The corners of my mouth tugged up in a forced smile that probably didn’t look too friendly.

“Mornin’, Gov. Word on the street is that ya’ wanted to see me.” I said, keepin’ my tone as conversational as possible. Wouldn’t be too good for my cause to let the Governor know how freakin’ tired I was of gettin’ called to his quarters everyday like he was some sort of god damn high school principal.

He stepped back and opened the door wider. “That’s right, I got somethin’ I wanted to show you. Come on in, Merle.”

I stepped into his apartment, the air already thick and muggy with Georgian humidity. It looked the same as it always did, neat and tidy. His holster, guns still strapped in, hung off the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I pulled out a chair and sunk down into it, stretchin’ my legs out in front of me. My boots were caked with dried mud from our little excursion to the pit of walkers the other day. Flakes of the powdery brown dirt fell to the clean kitchen floor and I felt just a little bit of satisfaction.

“Can I get you somethin’ to drink? Water? Coffee? Whiskey?” He asked, shuttin’ the door and movin’ into the tiny kitchen.

I chuckled. “Ain’t it a little early to be hittin’ the bottle, Gov?” I asked, perkin’ a single eyebrow. It felt like he was testin’ me. I hated that feelin’. I hated playin’ games where I wasn’t the one runnin’ the show. I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “But, nah, I’m good.”

The Governor nodded and sat down at the table across from me. I hadn’t noticed before, but in the middle of the table was a small cardboard box. He pulled it towards him and unfolded the top. He stopped and looked at me.

“You’ve really become a part of Woodbury, Merle. When I took you and Harlow in, I wasn’t sure I was makin’ the right call, but you’ve both proved your worth here.” He said quietly. I shifted slightly in my chair, crossin’ my arms over my chest. “You’re a man who understands how this world works, and I think you’re also a man I can trust. Now I know you’re itchin’ to find that brother of yours, and I’ll follow through on my half of the bargain soon enough. But for now, I wanted to give you somethin’. To show our appreciation for you here in Woodbury, and how much I value you as a part of our team.”

Now I was gettin’ curious. What the hell kinda gift could this man give to me? And for what? For playin’ along with his little Woodbury game. I leaned forward. “Well, I’m just doin’ my civic duty as a good citizen.” I said, my lips curlin’ upwards in a forced smile.

The Governor nodded before reachin’ into the box and pullin’ out the strangest lookin’ contraption I’d ever laid eyes on. It was all metal, a sharp lookin’ blade attached to one end and thick leather straps on the other. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell I was lookin’ at but the Governor beat me to it.