I watch Daryl beat the living shit out of Randall with a blank face, knife twirling in my hands. I'm sitting on a plank jutting out from the wall. The kid cries and whimpers and I roll my eyes. He had the nuts to shoot at us from a roof, but not take anything since then?
You truly are a pathetic creature, I think to myself. Shit hit the fan when Rick and Shane had left to release him and they'd brought him back. Turns out, he knows Maggie and that means he knows where the farm is.
"I told you," he says from the ground where he'd fallen after a good hit from Daryl. I turn my gaze on him, contemplating the angry redneck. He on the other hand, can take some shit.
Now, you'd be a good hunter, I muse. With a little anger management, of course.
"You ain't told me shit," Daryl growls, grabbing Randall by the shirt and slamming him into the wall.
"I barely knew those guys. I met 'em on the road," Randall says.
"How many?" I ask.
"Huh?" He glances at me in confusion, but I notice his eyes dip to my chest. I glare, lip curling in distaste.
"How many in your group, asshole?" Daryl snarls, taking two steps towards Randall, who cowers. The kid doesn't answer.
"Perhaps he needs a different kind of motivation," I murmur, standing up. I twirl the knife in my hands and give Randall a manic sort of grin.
"Oh no no no. Please." He looks to Daryl as I prowl forward. "Please don't let her do this." Daryl ignores him and I crouch over Randall's outstretched legs, running the blade down his face gently.
"Now, Randall, I don't want to hurt you." Not true and he can see it in my eyes. "My brute of a friend over here? He'd love to keep beating you to a pulp, but I'd much rather get the answers I need and leave. Won't you help me?" I give a little pout as the knife skims down his chest. He whimpers.
"How many?" Daryl demands and I spin the knife slightly and push, cutting into Randall's chest. He cries out.
"About thirty!" he gasps out. "Thirty guys."
"Where?" Daryl asks and I trail the knife back him to Randall's throat, sliding it across just hard enough for him to feel the threat.
"Uh . . . "
"Too slow," I say cheerily and swipe the knife against his collar bone. He cries out.
"I don't know! I swear!"
"I find it hard to believe you don't know where your own camp is," I say. "I don't like being lied to, Randall." I run the knife to his ear. "Maybe I should take this to teach you a lesson." I jerk a thumb to Daryl. "Did you know he has a necklace of walker ears?" Randall's eyes widen. "Maybe we should add a fresh human ear to it. Don't you think, Daryl?" I reach my other hand towards his ear.
"We were never anyplace more than a night!" he screams. "Please, don't take off my ear!"
"Scouting? Planning on staying local?" Daryl asks.
"I want the truth, Randall," I say in a sweet voice. "I really don't enjoy hurting you."
"I don't know," he cries. "They left me behind."
"That's not the answer we need, Randall," I say regretfully. He screams as the ear comes off. I toss it to Daryl, who actually seems a bit shocked. Randall squalls and screams, tears rolling down his face and blood down his neck. "I really need better answers, Randall. Don't make me take the other off." I've always been better at physical torture than psychological, but I'm hoping he's weak enough in mind and body to break easily. I bring the knife down between us to his crotch and lean close so my lips brush his remaining ear as I speak. "Or maybe I should take something a bit more important."
"Okay! Okay! Just don't cut off my dick!" he pleads and I smile, kissing his cheek. He shudders. I pull back with a grin, his blood on my lips.
"That's what I like to hear, Randall." I bring the knife back to his chest. "Go on."
"They have weapons. Heavy stuff, automatics. But I didn't do anything!"
"Randall, baby," I nearly gag as I settle my weight on his legs, purposely sitting on his wound, "I already asked you not to lie to me. You know I don't like it and you know I was there. You shot at my people. People I care about. So did the others you were with. Don't make me take your other ear." He sobs. "Now, you said thirty guys earlier," I say sweetly. "Does that mean there aren't any women or children?" I ask.
"No. There are women and children. Just like you people. Look, these people took me in. I thought I'd have a better chance with them than on my own." He gulps and doesn't meet my eyes. "But we go out to scavenge. Just the men. One night we found this little campsite." Dread immediately starts building in me, along with a lot of anger. "A man and his daughters - teenagers, you know? Real young. Real cute." He looks at me and the first hint of pleasure seeps into his eyes since I came over. "Like you." His eyes roam me and I slam the hilt of the knife into his jaw at the same time Daryl wrenches his head up by the hair. Randall coughs, spitting out blood. "Their daddy had to watch while these guys - they - and they didn't even kill him afterwards. They just made him watch as his daughters . . . just left him there. But I didn't touch those girls. No, I swear I didn't."
Daryl's foot connects with Randall's injured leg and he cries out. I can feel the rage pouring off Daryl and it only fuels my own. I yank Randall up again, not completely dropping my sweet girl persona, but letting a little of the malice shine through.
"You know what I hate more than liars, Randall?" He whimpers in response. "Rapists." My knife slowly lowers back to his crotch.
"No! I swear I didn't touch those girls! I didn't lay a hand on them."
"Tell me something, Randall. If things went the other way back in town, the men I was with killed or captured and I was left helpless, what would have happened to me? Would you have watched? Or would you have joined in?" I press the tip of the knife down hard and he cries out. "Did you enjoy hearing them scream? Hearing them beg? 'No. Stop. Please. Help.' Sounds a bit like you doesn't it?" My voice is soft, but full of a mixture of rage and sweetness. His eyes meet mine and for a split second I see something I've seen many many time before, something I've even seen reflected back in the mirror at times; pure evil. Not the kind created by the monsters of the supernatural world, but mankind's special brand of it. It's there and gone, along with a smug grin, but I catch it. He didn't stand aside as those girls were assaulted. He was part of it. He loved it. I smile and impale his dick on my knife.
Daryl and I leave the shed about a half hour later. I'd gotten my answers and was content to let Daryl beat the guy the rest of the time.
I gag and wipe the blood from my lips. I've had monster blood on my face and even on my mouth before, but his seems particularly fowl.
"What happened?" he asks.
"What do you mean?"
"Anyone that is so willing to hurt and kill others the way you do has had something or multiple somethings happen in their life." He glances down at me. "What happened?"
I snort. "Torture then a heart to heart, Daryl?" He shrugs and we walk in silence for a moment.
"How old are you anyway?" he asks.
"Fourteen," I answer and he glances down at me again.
"Huh," is all he says in reply as we reach the others. "Boy there's got a gang. Thirty men."
"Along with women and children," I put in. Daryl nods in agreement. I spot the colorful bruise on Andrea's jaw and a small smirk appears on my face.
"They have heavy artillery and they ain't looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead."
"Women won't be so lucky for a little while," I say gravely.
"What did you do," Carol asks, looking between the two of us.
"Had a little chat," Daryl says. She looks to me and I notice several people looking at the blood dripping from my knife.
"He won't be hurting anymore girls," I say in a nonchalant voice.
"No one goes near this guy," Rick says.
"Rick, what are you gonna do?" Lori asks.
"We have no choice. He's a threat," Rick responds quietly. He raises his voice and says, "We have to eliminate the threat."
"You're just gonna kill him?" Dale asks.
"It's settled. I'll do it today." He walks off and Dale rushes to follow.
I grab a bucket and a change of clothes and head to the farthest well. I really don't want any part of this creep on me, even if it's just his blood. I fill up the bucket and glance around before stripping down. I bend over the bucket and dip my hair in, twisting my head back and forth to try to get any blood loose since it really couldn't fit my hand in to work it out. I come back up and ring it out before flipping it back over. I dip my ruined shirt in the water and use it as a rag to get the blood covering my hands, arms and face. Then I quickly get dressed and dump the bloody water out and replace it with my clothes before heading back to camp.
Maggie glances at me, to my wet hair, then at the bucket with my soiled clothes, back to me and then back the way I came. "You know you could have just used the showers inside? We have hot water and privacy."
"Didn't really think your father would appreciate me dripping blood across his hardwood floors and carpets," I respond as I pass. Her hand closes around my wrist and I glance back at her.
"Thank you for what you did with Andrea," she says. "I shouldn't be thankful that you punched someone, but I am."
I chuckle and wink at her. "It's been a long time coming. No need to thank me." I continue walking on. I look up and notice Carl sneaking into the shed and heart lurches. I curse and take off running across the yard, waving my hands to get Andrea and Shane's attention.
Shane and Andrea see me and Andrea glares while Shane looks confused and a little worried, though it's more a worrying if i lost my mind than a worrying about what's wrong. I point to the shed. "Carl," I yell and Shane is immediately moving. He yanks the door open and storms in, Andrea right behind with her gun drawn. I follow seconds later and see Shane pinning Randall against the wall. I grab Carl's hand and pull him out. "What on earth were you thinking?" I ask. I pull him several yards away from the shed and spin, kneeling in front of him. "Did he hurt you? Say anything?" I pat down his arms, torso and legs, checking for wounds. I'll kill the son of a bitch. I sigh in relief when I don't find any blood or other signs that he'd been hurt and crush his body to mine. "The fuck were you thinking, Carl?" I demand again.
"Please, don't tell my parents," he begs.
"Carl," Shane barks as he comes out, "the hell were you doing in there?" he demands. I don't let go of Carl, Just stand and pick the kid that's only a few years younger than me up in my arms. Fuck this kid is heavy.
"Please, don't tell my parents," he repeats.
"Carl, that ain't cool, man. You could've gotten hurt in there," Shane growls. "Would you stop babying him, Ivy?" I glare at Shane, but put Carl down. He straightens his clothes.
"I can handle myself," Carl quips at Shane and i raise an eyebrow.
"Let me tell you something," Shane says, pointing a finger in Carl's face, "you do not go near him again. Do you hear me? Dammit."
"You won't tell my parents, will you?" Carl asks, though the delivery sounds like a challenge. What's gotten into this kid?
"Carl, man, this isn't about getting in trouble, okay? A guy like that, he will say anything to you. He'll try to make you feel sorry for him. He'll try to make you get your guard down. You let your guard down out here, people die. Now just do me a favor, man, go find your mom. Go on." I grab Carl's hand and drag him after me.
"I won't say anything, but I don't speak for those two," I mutter.
"Ivy." I crack an eyelid to see Dale walking up to me. I'm leaning against a tree, enjoying the shade it provides.
"So, it's my turn, huh?" I ask, closing my eye again. "How many people do you have on your side, Dale?"
"We have t save him, Ivy. This kid's life is worth more than a few agreed words. Please. Rick trusts what you say and listens to you."
"Listen, Dale, I'm the last person you're going to get on your side, apart from Shane, of course. I wanted this kid dead before any of you met him. I told rick to kill Randall or leave him for the walkers, he chose to save him. His life is in Rick's hands now as far as I'm concerned."
"Look to your humanity, Ivy. Saving the kid only to torture and murder him? This isn't right. You know this isn't right. We can save him."
"Did you know he raped two teen girls?" I ask, getting up. His eyes widen in shock. "He and his friends did that to those girls and made their father watch. That's who your're protecting." I walk away, but then glance back at him. "For the record," he looks up at me, "I lost my humanity a long time ago." With that, I leave.
I sit on the floor in the sitting room with everyone else. Standing or sitting somewhere else. Lori and Rick look at Carl and Lori motion for him to go. He looks to me for help and I shake my head. He sighs and leaves.
"So, how do we do this? Just take a vote?" Glenn asks.
"Does it have to be unanimous?" Andrea asks.
"How about majority rules?" Lori suggests.
"Well, let's just see where everybody stands, then we can talk through the options," Rick says. Everyone seems to think that's fair.
"Well, where I sit, there's only one way to move forward," Shane says.
"Killing him," Dale spits out. "Right? I mean, why bother to even take a vote? It's clear which way the wind is blowing."
"Well, if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know," Rick says.
"Well, I can tell you it's a small group. Maybe just me and Glenn," Dale says and I wince, remembering Glenn also leaning towards killing him in town. Glenn gives Dale a guilty look.
"Look, I think you're pretty much right about everything, all the time, but this-"
"They've got you scared," Dale interrupts.
"He's not one of us," Glenn argues. "And we've - we've lost too many people already."
Dale points at Maggie desperately. "How about you? Do you agree with this?"
"Couldn't we continue keeping him prisoner?" she asks after a moment.
"Just another mouth to feed," Daryl says.
"It may be a lean winter," Hershel agrees.
"Not to mention the medical needs he now has," I wince and glance at Rick. "I only anticipated him being alive at most another day." Everyone stares at me. "What? It's not like he didn't deserve it," I grumble, crossing my arms and leaning back against the wall.
"Wait a minute," T says. "You actually cut his dick off?"
"Language," Hershel reprimands. "Not in my house." T-Dog nods an apology.
I give an all to innocent smile. "Maybe just the tip." Daryl snorts. I distinctly remember him holding his junk as I repeatedly stabbed Randall's crotch. "Okay, so it's in literal ribbons with some chunks missing. He had it coming." Everyone stares at me in shock. I growl and look away. "I'm not sorry."
"We're coming back to that," Lori says. "We could ration better."
"He could be an asset," Dale says. "Give him a chance to prove himself."
"Put him to work?" Glenn asks.
"We're not letting him walk around," Rick says.
"We could put an escort on him," Maggie suggests.
"Who wants to volunteer for that duty?" Shane asks sarcastically.
"I will," Dale says.
"I don't think any of us should be walking around with this guy," Rick says.
"He's right," Lori says. "I wouldn't feel safe unless he was tied up."
"We can't exactly put chains around his ankles, sentence him to hard labor," Andrea says.
"Let's say we did," I say. "Hypothetically, of course. Then what? What could he possibly do to make us trust him? I know if I was in his shoes, I'd do nearly anything to get even the slightest amount of trust so that I can escape or die trying and I'd take as many fuckers down with me as I could. He is in Hell right now," I say. "What does he really have to loose that isn't already on the line? His life? Already at risk of loosing that. He has everything to gain and nothing to loose. This one life is not worth all of ours."
"He brings back his thirty men, we don't have a chance," Shane agrees.
"So, the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime he may never even attempt?" Dale asks angrily. "If we do this, we're saying there's no hope. Rule of law is dead. There is no civilization."
"That's exactly true," I say, standing and turning to face Dale head on. "The world as we knew it is gone, Dale. It's changed. If we don't change with, we'll die. He very well may not go and bring his people here, but we can't risk it. Would you be able to live with yourself if he brought his people back and you were forced to watch them rape Beth? How about Maggie? Lori? Carol?" I take a step towards him. "Andrea? Is that something you'd be able to live with, knowing that it could have been prevented? Knowing that you fought for his life and that is how he thanks you? Is that something you could live with?" Dale doesn't answer.
"Could you drive him further out?" Hershel asks. "Leave him like you planned?"
"You barely came back this time," Lori protests. "There are walkers. You could break down. You could get lost."
"Or get ambushed," Daryl points out.
"They're right," Glenn says. "We should not put out own people at risk."
"If you . . . go through with it," Patricia's timid voice makes us look to her, "how would you do it? Would he suffer?" Rick looks to Shane.
"We could hang him, right? Just snap his neck," Shane says.
"I thought about that," Rick says. "Shooting may be more humane."
"Back when hangings were popular for being put to death, it wasn't uncommon for people to survive the drop. That happens here, we'll either have to keep trying or choose another route," I say.
"What about the body?" T-Dog asks. "Do we bury him?"
"Hold on, hold on!" Dale starts talking over T, waving his arms in front of him in a stop motion. "You're talking about this like it's already decided."
"You've been talking all day, going around in circles," Daryl says. "You just want to go around in circles again?"
"This is a young man's life and it is worth more than a five minute conversation! Is this what it's come to? We kill someone because we can't decide what else to do with him? You saved him and now look at us. He's been tortured. He's going to be executed. How are we any better than those people that we're so afraid of?" No one answers for a moment.
"We all know what needs to be done," Shane says quietly.
"No, Dale is right," Rick says and I look at him in shock. "We can't leave any stone unturned here. We have a responsibility."
"So what's the other solution?" Andrea asks, speaking over Rick.
"Let Rick finish," Lori chastises.
"We haven't come up with a single viable option yet," Andrea says. "I wish we could."
"So let's work on it!" Dale exclaims.
"We are," Rick says at the same time Carol says, "Stop it."
We look at Carol. "Just stop it," she says. "I'm sick of everybody arguing and fighting. I didn't ask for this. You can't ask us to decide something like this. Please decide - either of you, both of you - but leave me out."
"Not speaking out or killing him yourself - there's no difference," Dale says, tears welling in his eyes. I sigh and shake my head.
"All right, that's enough," Rick says. "Anybody that wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance." No one says anything.
"I'm sorry, Dale," I say. "This is just how it is. This isn't about not being able to decide, there's just no other option that keeps us safe."
"You once said that we don't kill the living," Dale says, holding a hand out to Rick.
"Well, that was before the living tried to kill us," Rick says.
"But don't you see? If we do this, the that we were, the world that we knew, is dead. And this new world is ugly. It's . . . harsh. It's - it's survival of the fittest. And that's a world I don't want to live in and I don't believe that any of you do. I can't. Please. Let's just do what's right." His voice is strangled and he fights to keep the tears from spilling over.
"The world has always been that way, Dale," I say. "You just never had to face that part of it. The only difference between now and then is that the monsters don't wait for dark or hide under your bed or in your closet. The things that go bump in the night have really come out to play and they far outnumber us. When living in a world of monsters, you have to become a monster."
No one says anything, taking in my words. I know none of them truly understand what I'm saying. They may think I do, but they don't.
"Isn't there anybody else who's gonna stand with me?" he asks, desperately.
"He's right," Andrea says after a short silence. That shocks the hell out of me. Dale looks at her with a hopeful look. "We should try to find another way."
"Anybody else?" Rick asks. Silence. Rick turns to Dale with a 'there you go' look.
Dale shakes his head. "Are ya'll gonna watch, too? No, you'll go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we're slaughtering a human being." He shakes his head and lets out a breath. "Whoa. I won't be a party to it." He walks out, but stops at Daryl and puts a hand on his shoulder. "This group is broken." he says, like they'd been in a middle of a conversation that we all managed to miss. The he walks out.
I look at a crying Randall from the overhead loft in the barn. He's blindfolded with Daryl and Shane standing several feet way on either side and Rick a few feet in front of him.
"Would you like to stand or kneel?" Rick asks.
"Oh no, please," Randall begs. Daryl forces him into a kneeling position. Randall just keeps sobbing and whimpering.
"Do you have any final words?" Rick asks.
"No. Please," Randall begs again. "Please don't. Don't."
"You know, Randall boy," I call down and he tenses in utter fear, making me smirk, "your dying words are supposed to have some sort of meaning. Please and don't really don't have much meaning to them. You're just starting to sound like a broken record." Rick points the gun at Randall's head and Randall whimpers again at the click.
Movement out of the corner of my eye causes me to look at the door. My eyes widen at seeing Carl and I look between him and where his ares are trained on his dad pointing a gun at Randall's head.
"Do it, dad," Carl says. I grab onto the floor of the loft and push off, spinning so that I'm hanging, then drop into a crouch behind Rick. "Do it." Rick looks to Shane and Shane storms over to Carl, saying something too low for me to hear. I move into Shane's spot. Rick stands there for a few more seconds with the gun to Randall's head before he lowers it.
"Take him away," Rick says quietly. "Take him away."
Daryl grabs Randall and yanks him to his feet. "Get up," he growls. Shane angrily storms off and I give Carl a stern look as I walk by him behind Daryl.
I gnaw on my lip as we walk, fingers playing across the hilt of my knife. I could slit his throat right now and be done with it. I take two steps forward and pull my knife out, a hand grabs my wrist and twists it behind me, pulling me into a hard chest. I glare up at Daryl.
"It's not on you to do it," he says. "Wait for Rick." I glare at hi for another few seconds and his hand tightens on my wrist in warning. I could easily get out of his hold, but I don't try.
"Fine," I bite out. He stares at me a moment, before nodding and letting go. I shake out my wrist and scowl. "Jerk," I mutter. He shoot me a glare and we quickly return Randall t the shed.
We're in the shed when we hear screaming. We both take off and I have double back to slam the door shut and lock it. I run after Daryl as shouting raises around the camp. Screams of fear soon turn into screams of pain and I realize I recognize the voice. Dale. I curse and push my legs harder, but I can't keep up with Daryl. We see Dale with a walker on top of him, ripping his stomach open. I scream Dale's name as Daryl tackles the walker off Dale.
I drop to my knees next to Dale and my hands hover over his bloody stomach, trembling. "Daryl!" I shout and he quickly kills the walker and moves over to us, kneeling on Dale's other side. I move so that Dale's head rests in my lap, tears quickly forming. "Help!" I scream. "Get Hershel!" I already know that there's no saving him. A walker tore his stomach open and I can plainly his his guts.
"We're over here!" Daryl shouts, standing and waving his arms over his head. I run my hands over Dale's head and face and he looks up at me. "Help! Run! Hang in there, buddy."
"Who is it?" Andrea asks as everyone converges on us.
"He's alive, Dale," I say, giving him the only comfort I can. "Randall's alive. We didn't do it." I block out everything else going on around me, ignore everyone and just focus on Dale. I clasp his face in my hands. "You saved him." I won't tell him that Rick just didn't want to kill the guy in front of Carl. He won't live long enough to find out my little white lie. One of his hands comes up to grasp mine and he gives me a grateful smile. My tears fall onto his face. "I'm so sorry, Dale. I'm sorry I didn't support you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you," I whisper.
Groans and gasps of pain are panting out of him as he looks around at everyone around us. I just look at Dale's face. I refuse to remember him bloody and torn apart with people panicking around him. He doesn't deserve that.
"Lay your weary head to rest," I sing softly. His eyes return to me and I can in his eyes he's accepted that he's going to die. I pull my gun from its holster as I vaguely hear Hershel telling Rick Dale won't make it to the house. Dale mouths a thanks to me as I hear Andrea scream. I press the gun to the side of his head. "Don't you cry no more." I close my eyes and pull the trigger.