My eyes locate Kelly positioned a few yards away, then finding Charlee and Tori lurking behind him. I observe as he brings the radio to his mouth, "be safe in there, Ness. Call us in if you need us." His unmistakable voice flows out of the walkie talkie attached to my hip.
I click the radio loose, bringing it to my lips. "Got it." I mumble back, without taking my line of sight off of him. "Give 'em hell, Kells." I return it to my side without another word.
Rick wanted to hit the inside of this outpost with just the three of us, but that plan didn't sit right with me; something didn't feel right. I had brought it to his that we needed Kelly and my friends on call just in case shit hit the fan. We need the chaos twins on our side for back up. Tori has also proved to be just as merciless as I've become, so I brought in my big sister. She was caught off guard when I told her I wanted her with us on this mission, though agreeing once I ran down Rick's plan. I'm thankful that we finally mended the bridge between us that separated us all of our years. Who knew it would take the dead walking among us to bring us back together?
Dwight mentioned and promised to Daryl that there were guns inside of this building. If they are, this place is going to be crawling with saviors. I'd rest better knowing we had back up. Rick and Daryl agreed, seeing my point and logic.
Kelly nods at my message, meeting my eyes before putting his fingers in his mouth, letting out an ear splitting whistle. He raises his gun, cutting down a few saviors that were running in his direction. Charlee runs headfirst, dancing out of the way of the bullets, then going in for the kill. I watch as she thrusts a knife into the head of some unlucky lacky. I smirk, my best friend is a bad ass. The sounds of the fire fight fill the air around us. I suck in a nervous breath, returning my attention to the building in front of us. Daryl and I work together quickly and quietly taking down the two men guarding the back door to the outpost.
Daryl, Rick and I step over the bodies, crossing into the threshold. Unease crawls up my spine upon noticing it's too quiet and seemingly empty and still. I take up the rear with Rick in the lead. I keep my ears and eyes peeled for any small sound or movement.
"Come on. Let's find them guns." Daryl orders, motioning for the three of us to split off. Without another word, I take off down an empty hallway with my pistol held firmly in my grip, sweeping each room quickly.
Where is everyone, I muse. Aaron and his group are working on taking out the saviors in the front while Kelly, Charlee, and Tori cover the door we came through. I realize the inside of this building is too still. Something isn't right. My stomach turns with a bad feeling creeping along my flesh. The saviors were a large group; it shouldn't be this empty. This place should be teeming with them if this outpost is truly holding the weapons we are seeking out.
Coming up empty handed, I silently stalk through the hallways, seeking out my husband and our friend. I find Rick staring at a wall with an unreadable look on his face. I cock my head, unsure if he heard my approach. A door swings open, revealing Daryl. Rick spins around, raising his gun at the sudden noise filling the empty room.
"Ain't on this floor." Daryl grunts, smirking at Rick's reaction. His eyes meet mine; I watch as they travel my body, searching to see if I got into a tussle. I shake my head. He returns his attention to Rick when he's satisfied.
"Only option is up." Rick gestures to the ceiling around us.
"High ground. Good cover." Daryl agrees.
"Yeah, I'd put them up there, too."
My eyes flick to the room we find ourselves in, chewing on my lip, not finding anything that'll help us get to the next level. I run a hand through my hair, growing tired and frustrated.
The first trimester of pregnancy is exhausting. I find myself getting stretched thin far too easily; I believe I'm starting to push myself to the limits. But I need to keep going so our child doesn't have to grow up under this man's thumb.
"Stairs." Daryl points to the door, bringing me out of my inner monologue as he begins to pound on the door with his foot over and over. Ah, yes, the logical approach. I was considering a sneakier approach, but this works, too. The sounds of the banging ricochet off the walls around us.
"This is too easy." I offer my thoughts, "something isn't right." Rick faces me with surprise dancing on his face. "What? I've been here the whole time." I shake my head, assisting my husband with beating the door in.
We take the second floor, fanning out, still not finding a god damn thing. I'm growing restless and irritated. After we regroup for the second time, we decide to take the third and final floor. Rick and Daryl grab my arms, pulling me up to ground. Did I mention the stairs were a fucking ladder? I straighten up, rubbing my hands along my pants.
"Last floor." Rick announces, "the guns have gotta be up here."
"He said they'd be here." Irritation dances into the archers gruff tone.
"Everything else he passed you is checking out."
"That guy's a piece of shit."
"Daryl's right. He's a coward. What if someone discovered that he was aiding and abetting their enemy?" I growl in frustration. I stalk around, eyes searching the halls around us. "He'd switch sides so god damn fast."
"Those guns get to the Sanctuary; they could cut through those walkers and free up an exit." Rick shakes his head. "We'll go faster if we split up. Find the M2s, you find 'em, we use them, hit the courtyard right then and there."
"End this quick." Daryl takes off without another word.
I decide to cover Rick's back instead of waltzing off on my own as the bad feeling returns, causing little goosebumps to break out along my fair skin. We continue to come up empty. I rub my face, as I swallow hard, forcing the anxiety down. After a few long quiet minutes while I'm surveying the room around us, the sound of a scuffle reaches my ears. I raise my gun, spinning on my heels. I watch as Rick and the stranger struggle. I take a moment to wait for an opening while I put my gun in the small of my back, tripping the assailant as he comes a little too close to my person. I reach down, dragging him up by his shirt. I wrap my arms around his neck, locking tight in a head lock. Rick nods at me before bending down, facing the stranger, "the M2's. Where are they?"
"No guns." He spits.
I smirk, shaking my head. "You're no help. Guess you're better off dead, huh?" I let the venom drip from my voice.
"Wait!" I release my grip enough to snap his neck, letting his body fall to my feet with a thud. I step over his corpse, continuing on. The sounds of a knife cutting into bone reach my ears. Rick must've made sure he didn't come back to be a problem for our escape.
In the next room, we stumble across a baby no older than a few months. My blue eyes find the tiny human in question, starting to doubt that coming in here with guns blazing was a good idea. The room is decked out like a nursery. Whoever she is, she's surely loved. My hand meets my stomach, closing my eyes. This isn't a world that's nice to the defenseless. But I promise I'll make sure my own child will not have to face this type of bullshit. Rick hangs his head while I pull out my radio. "Hey guys, we got a baby. Come in and have Tori come get her to safety, take her back to Alex. Third floor." I continue to give directions to the room. Rick's attention finds me, appreciating and agreeing with my own call on this situation.
"Got it." Kelly's voice fills the silent air. I shake my head, running my hand through my hair. I spin on my heels, heading out. I've seen enough of this room; I doubt they'd keep firearms near a child. The sounds of cowboy boots stalking across on the floor informs me that Rick is right behind me, covering my six.
We check a few rooms before something catches his attention. I cock my head, crossing my arms, confused at his reaction to whatever he is looking at. From what I can see, it's a picture of some sort. I stand back, allowing him have a moment.
I let out a stream of creative curses when arms wrap around my neck, feeling a gun pointed at my temple. I don't struggle, instead, I decide to wait for an opening. This idiot doesn't realize that he just caught a black widow and not some damsel in distress.
"Keep your hands down. Turn around slow. I got your back up restrained." The newcomer speaks, "Hi, Rick." Rick turns around, his face twists like he just saw a ghost. I watch as the blood drains out of his face. His eyes find me, unconcerned. I smirk, he knows.
"Your name," Rick sputters, "is Morales. You were in Atlanta." Ah. they were together before I got tapped in to join the group. It's a twisted family reunion, ladies and gents!
"That was a long time ago. It's over, Rick." Morales' voice comes from behind me. I click my tongue as realization dawns on me from the stories I heard from the camp they had set up. This man helped Glenn save Rick when he was stuck in Atlanta when he awoke from his coma. From what I remember, he had left with his family to go off somewhere. I'm assuming he didn't make it to his destination.
"I called the Saviors back. And they're coming." Morales threatens. I bite my tongue, letting my retort die in my throat. Now isn't the time to run free of the tongue. "Guns down now, or I will fucking kill her."
Rick nods, setting his gun on the ground. His eyes return to me, "you okay?" He questions.
"Yeah, just bidding my time." I grunt, "I'm more annoyed by this minor inconvenience." I ground out, chastising myself for not hearing this man sneak up on me. Daryl walks in, holding his hands up. I spot him in the corner of my eye as he assesses the situation.
"Ya are always gettin' yourself into these situations, huh?" Daryl's voice fills the air, amusement dances on his face. "I wouldn't let her go, man. Ya might think ya trapped us in here with ya, but when she's free, ya are trapped in here with her."
"Pot meet Kettle," I roll my eyes, "wait; no, that's fair. You're right. Proceed with the villain henchman speech."
"So, you're the Rick from Alexandria. This whole time, it was you." Morales continues, clearly ignoring the banter I'm sharing with my husband. "Daryl, I'm surprised to see you're still alive. I thought your temper or racist rants would get you killed."
Daryl shrugs, acknowledging his words, unbothered. My eyes find the archer. He's not who he was; he's come along way. I'm partially glad I didn't know him when he and Rick first met. I firmly believe I would've beat him back a few times, just as I did at the farm when he thought it was okay to call me a freak. We've both come a long way from being the racist redneck and freak outcast that didn't belong in the group.
"You called your men in for nothing." Rick shakes his head, "the fight's out there. It's just us in here."
"Did you hear what I just said? I know who you are. I saw it in the mirror through the open door. And it wasn't any kind of blast from the past. As soon as I saw you, I knew you'd made the same trip as me. From there to here." He scoffs, "shit, well. Well, I guess we aren't the same guys we used to be, huh? 'Cause you're a monster. I called them back because you're a prize, Rick. We've been told. We don't kill you, the Widow, the Reaper or the King; not if we don't have to. So why are you here, Rick? I know you, just like before. You're always the guy willing to rush in. But why? What is it you're looking for? Nothing to say, huh? It doesn't matter. Not anymore. Not for you or anyone else you brought in here. 'Cause what's left of my people... They're coming. And we'll get you to Negan. Or we won't."
"Who the hell is the reaper?" I inquire, unamused by this idiot. Why are all the stupid speeches littered with the same 'my dick is huge' bullshit. It's like we are living in some real life twisted superhero movie where the bad guy has some god damn invincibility complex until someone better comes along and cuts down their ego down a few notches.
"The redneck's wife that Negan calls Elvira. Owen Shaw's ex girlfriend that wrongfully accused him of some bullshit. That's all I know. I ain't saving The Reaper. I plan to kill her when I meet her for what she did to Owen." Oh shit. My eyes snap wide open, surprise dances through my veins while Rick and Daryl register exactly who the reaper is. "Either way, we're gonna settle your shit, Peaches."
"Is your family here?" Rick questions, peering around the room.
"We never made it to Birmingham. They didn't."
"Well, I'm sorry."
"Really, Rick?" He scoffs.
My eyes meet Daryl, watching as he crosses his arms. Anger dances under his flesh. I'm officially on Negan's list of prizes and he's pissed about it. I need to stop making lasting first impressions. The accusations of wanting to kill me that this man is making the tension around him thick and putrid. He saw the pictures and heard the stories over and over; he knows.
Though, an abuser knows how to get people to see his side while he feigns victim. Owen's mask is and has always been impressive; even making Shane look like some D rated movie actor while Owen is an Emmy award winner with his 'woe is me' act. He's had years to perfect it. I'm not surprised Rick's old acquaintance fell for it.
"I am. I lost people, too. Lori. Shane. Andrea. Glenn." Rick offers, I wince at the mention of my favorite Korean. I force the memories of that dark night back. Now isn't the time. "Negan killed him. Forced him to his knees. Bashed his head in right in front of me. In front of his pregnant wife."
"He had a wife?"
"Not before. He met her." Rick shakes his head; sadness fills his rugged face.
"In this?" Surprise dances in the stranger's tone.
"Yeah. In this. She's the Widow. You're holding Daryl's pregnant wife. She's The Reaper." Rick gestures between my husband and I. Daryl raises his chin as the newcomer glances over in his direction.
"Daryl found someone, too?"
"Yeah." Daryl grunts. "Her name is Vanessa. I'd ask ya to let her go, but she's gonna kill ya once she's free. And Owen did almost kill her; more than once." He raises his chin, glaring him down, "I ain't worried 'bout ya hurtin' her. Ya need to worry 'bout her hurtin' ya."
"Better get everything out in the open now while you still breathe," I sneer, red dances into my vision. God, I can't wait to get my hand on this asshole and Owen. I'm tired of him popping up at the worst possible time. His timing is impeccable. For a moment, I struggle against the arms but I'm held in place. "Fuck!" I snarl.
"We met her after we left Atlanta." Rick offers. "She isn't one to piss off and you did just that."
"She ain't one to fuck with." Daryl chuckles but the amusement doesn't reaches his eyes. He, too, has been on the other of my rage.
"Are you Negan, too?" Rick asks Morales.
I feel his grip loosen. I begin to tick off the seconds before I can make the move to get free. I close my eyes, feeling an opening coming soon.
"I lost my family. I lost my mind. I was in some tow trailer, sleeping myself to death. Waiting to become nothing. And the Saviors -- they found me. They thought I was worth a damn. Worth bringing back with 'em. So, yeah. Yeah, I'm Negan. To make it this far, this long, I had to be. I had to be something. Just like you."
"We're not the same." Rick challenges.
"How's that?"
"Well, look at you."
"Look at me? Look at us, Rick. Look at us. We're two assholes who'll do whatever we have to just to keep going. And the only difference is I'm the one holding the gun to dear old Daryl's wife. The infamous Reaper. That doesn't make me any worse than you, Rick -- that just makes me luckier. 'Cause let's face it, if it wasn't me, if it was you holding the g*n, I'd be brains out on the floor right now."
"You aren't going to be lucky for long." I spit.
"You don't know that." Rick offers.
"Yeah, Rick isn't going to kill you. I am, asshole." I promise.
"And you do? Huh?" Morales ignores my threat, seemingly finding me the harmless one. His first mistake.
"I know I wouldn't want to." Rick shakes his head.
"Come on. Is that the best you can do?" Morales scoffs.
"I'd -- I'd at least try to find another way."
"Yeah? Why? 'Cause we knew each other for a few days back at the start?"
"Look, I know. I-I wouldn't... I wouldn't just --"
Morales loosens his grip entirely, interrupting Rick. "You want to know what I think? I think you can talk all you want. You can say all the words. Lori, Shane, Andrea, Glenn; they're all dead, and somewhere along the way, Officer Friendly died right along with 'em. Just like I did with them. That's what I know, Rick."
Kelly enters the room where we are being held in, surveying the situation. "Does he know she's scary?" He smirks, turning his attention to Daryl.
Caught off guard by Kelly's sudden appearance, I reach up, grabbing Morales hands. Without letting go, I twist his wrist until he drops the gun. It clatters to the ground while I meet his surprised face with one of my shit eating grins. "Hi asshole!" I keep my grip locked, while I kick the gun towards Daryl. I let go, wrapping his shirt into my hands. I lower myself to the ground while I toss his body over mine. I quickly stand, pulling out my sword. I shove the point close to his face while Morales holds up his hands in surrender. "Nope, not today." I swing, cutting his head from his shoulders. "You were warned," I spit. I stalk out, with my sword still firmly in my grip. "I guess I know why I earned that nickname or title or whatever." I shrug.
"You good?" Daryl struts to my side. I nod. "You find them guns?"
"They aren't here." I growl. "We've been fucked over."
"What?"
"He called the Saviors back from the courtyard. We gotta get out before -" Rick speaks as a door opens loudly on the lower floor. "They're here."
"Show time, boys!" I smile.