![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inkribbon_twdThis chapter and the next one are still my warming ups, I'll be gone again for a couple of months on a writing break, writing the second half of the story but I wanted to post online the conclusion of the Satellite Attack arc as it's almost like one and half a year now :)) So I'm going to wrap it up in two chapters, and I'm back at writing again. I think in one or two months I can get ahead of at least 10 or so chapters, setting up the second for what is coming up the next, and then I'll return. I'll try to finish the story until this summer. I'll try my best.
I'll update this chapter and the next one on AO3 too, as to find out who might be still interested in the story, but not knowing here, so these posts will be on public view here and Archieve of Our Own after I also finish Chapter 59 and post it too, hopefully tomorrow.
I'm sooo excited to be back!!! I hope you're still here with me, and will enjoy this once more as much as I enjoy writing Rick and Amanda. I have so much plans for the second half and the All Out War and the end of this series, I CANNOT wait. Last year, I'd spoken of them a lot, we will even touch at the virus itself as we will close the series, and I truly cannot wait to finish Rick and Amanda saga, giving them the conclusion they deserve.
Be seeing you soon :))
The Satellite Station loomed in front of her under the dark sky, looking like a horror place in the downpour. The thought gnawed at her consciousness and at her heart at the same time, but Beth stopped them and silenced the whispers inside her. This was not the place to have sound thoughts. She had decided, she couldn’t turn back now. She had to do this now. She didn’t have anything to prove anyone, but herself.
Even the sky was dark tonight, stars and moon lost under the dark heavy rain clouds that they could not even see in the dark. It was almost pitch dark, and the station in front of them too was in the dark, no lights could be seen from the outside. Daryl and Rick had already gone as close as their walls to check inside for the last time and affirmed that they were not detected. The outpost was so silent and dark in the stormy night one could never assume people—many people were living inside. Even the watch posts were under in the blackness, no lights drifting from inside. The watches might be there, but unaware of what was nearing them.
On the day of judgment, Beth passed inside her mind, perhaps the last remaining part of Hershel Greene’s daughter. Beth had refused to acknowledge Amanda’s struggles and avoidance when she had admitted to Beth that she tried to regard what they were doing now as a preemptive strike to protect themselves, being the first one who attacked with the element of surprise, but Beth had just called it war, not trying to find herself any loopholes to feel better with herself. They were doing what they needed to do. That was the bottom line, that was their reality now. And, now, Beth’s time had come.
She remembered Jessie, the shell of a woman she had become, and how her hand had hesitated to take the woman down. Beth was not going to make the same mistake again. No. The heavy rain pattered around them through trees, wind howling through their ears and whipping at her face. Beth focused on the whiplashes that cracked at her face, feeling the tips of her ear turning red with cold, a shiver running down her spine.
Frankie raised her arm and sneezed inside the crook of her elbow, making Rick shoot her a sideways glance. The weather was so bad that Beth felt another cold shiver run past her body, this time not because of the remembrance of the past or what lay ahead of them. Beth thought of their home, the warmth they would have tonight dry and happier if people could have been just a little less greedy and ambitious. In such a world, even her father would have lived, Beth reckoned and quickly shoved the thought away from herself once more.
Rick tilted his head and Beth squared herself, understanding the time had come. They were moving. As silent as snails but as fast as cheetahs, they neared the outpost’s walls. They had passed over the plan on the Satellite Outpost’s map that Rick and Daryl had prepared so many times now that they all knew what direction they needed to run toward. Gleen and Beth took the left-east sides, separating from the others as Rick and Daryl raced on the straight line and the Hilltopers took the right-west sides. Their group also fanned out to the east, Beth and Glenn breaking away from Frankie and Abraham’s group to circle the backside of the compound. They were circling the outpost from every direction so no one would leave unbeknownst to them, bringing reinforcements. Or reinforcements would have not arrived in time without them intercepting them on their way.
Not that this foul weather would let them, but Rick was not taking any chances tonight. They had been forced to leave their vehicles in the midway, their eyes getting stuck in the mud. It had become a hassle to arrive in time, and Beth had been afraid Rick would have called it off before the dawn was nearing further, but he had not. They were ready, encircling the Satellite Outpost. Rick had left them only one small opening on their side, ordering her and Glenn to let them go from their side if things went bloodier than they had anticipated, providing their opponents a watched way out so they wouldn’t stay locked inside with them, fighting to the bitter end. The older Beth would have thought of it as an act of mercy, but the one who had wanted to come here to spill blood now it was merely an act of strategy, but mercy.
People with desperation, people who didn’t have to lose anything would find with everything, would even decide to take themselves down along them. They needed to provide them with an escape route in case they got stuck. The main purpose of tonight was taking over the outpost, claiming it as theirs, and sending Negan and all those men a message. Rick wasn’t coming down on them for mass murder.
But people also protected what they had these days religiously, like how Amanda and the others had protected their home when those Wolves had attacked them. Expecting those people to just run away under a sudden attack would be optimistic, and Beth knew Rick Grimes enough to know that he was never optimistic in such situations. If it came to worst, Rick was going to kill every single person inside these walls they were breaching now.
And, Beth was prepared.
Glenn cut through the wired fences at the top of the wall they had climbed with the wire cutters they had brought with themselves, and after stuffing the cutter back into his backpack, they quickly slip through the slit they had made and started to climb down. It was almost pitch dark now, the barely visible stars and moon under the heavy clouds giving them barely light to see their steps, and wind and rain were still cracking at their faces, pattering down on their heads. The elements of nature were making this a lot harder, but Beth still didn’t grunt or make any sound. The adrenalin was coursing through her veins in a way she had never experienced before, with trepidation, wariness, and anticipation. When they were attacked and Beth had to fight for her life, she used to feel a strong, spiking wildfire through her, making her feel so alive, this was entirely different than the raw quality of the thrill she had been feeling then.
She remembered further how it had felt when she had gone on her first supply run with Amanda after arriving in Alexandria, the wildfire thrill she had felt while she fought with the walkers for her life, how alive she had felt, the raw feelings burning away her depression. There was none of it in her now. She only felt the trepidation and anticipation in the same, alert and wary, her body still breezing with adrenaline, but the wildness of the thrill wasn’t as raw as before. Beth did not know what to call this, so she told herself it was because she was getting…better at this. Better at compartmentalizing like Amanda. She was no longer like an adrenaline junkie who needed to feel herself at the end of the line to feel…alive.
No. Beth was simply not that depressed girl anymore. She wasn’t looking for thrill or adrenaline here. She had come for a purpose like a soldier. The thrill and adrenaline were still there, when Beth listened to herself, she noticed them underneath, but they were not directing her here. Amanda would have been proud of her now. It was a thought that relieved her chest in a way Beth had not been aware of.
Silencing her thoughts, Beth followed Glenn after he jumped from the wall, holding his hand before they started to race toward the entrance that they were going to slip through. The door was locked as they had anticipated but it was unguarded. Glen knelt in front of it as they hid themselves from the downpour under the small terrace over their heads. Beth ran the wet sleeve of her coat over her wet forehead to wipe the raindrops that were dripping over her face, Glenn mimicking her action. Her hair was up in her pony tail, tightly secured, and as the tip of her ears seized with cold, Beth wished she had also worn a beanie over her head. Focusing on the thought came to her easier as she took her gun into her hands.
The lock yielded to Glenn silently and cracking it open with the same precaution and silence, Glenn checked inside, Beth standing at ready just a foot behind him. Glenn breached the door open another inch and poked inside, then twisting his neck behind, he tipped his head toward her. Without a word, they quickly crossed the threshold. Beth felt she too had just crossed a threshold for herself in the same way as she ran inside the dimly lit silent corridors along with Glenn. Emptying her mind, Beth focused on her surroundings, Amanda’s teachings echoing through her to always mind her surroundings.
In case they were walking into a trap.
Beth silenced that worried voice inside her as well, a part of her whispering to herself it had been too easy. No one would have known they were here, but it still felt too easy. Beth could not tell what she had been expecting, but this…. peacefulness still tugged at her mind, creating a disturbance in her. The Satellite Outpost was in deep slumber late at night as they had expected, but Beth was not at ease. Suddenly, she remembered how it had felt quiet and tranquil at Del Arno first, as well, before something had triggered Amanda, making them realize they had walked into the wolves’ den. Here they were walking in the Wolves’ lair again, and Beth felt the same triggered anxiety she had sensed that day from Amanda and herself.
She wondered if her anxiety was playing on her now, making her more nervous but Amanda always had told them to listen to their instincts as their primal feelings knew how to survive better. If Amanda had been here, she would have felt as anxious as Beth now. Beth cast aside a look at Glenn and saw him looking as wary as her, his jaw set, his expression tight and tout, ready. Beth realized then it was not her, truly. Glenn was feeling it as well.
But they still kept walking, to find the first door in the sleeping quarters. Inside the building, they didn’t have any clear intel as Paul and the others who had been inside the outpost couldn’t wander around the living quarters, and Rick and Daryl’s recon missions couldn’t tell them about that much, so they were checking around. The Satellite Outpost was crowded though, so Beth knew people were crammed inside. Rick and Daryl were to secure the armory first as they looked for the soldiers and put them down. If they met with civilians, they were to secure them away or take them hostages if they caused problems. Amanda had insisted on taking hostages if the soldiers also surrendered, but Beth didn’t know how they could manage it.
Everything was still so silent, the whole outpost in deep slumber. Beth tried to take it as a good sign as none of them had spotted yet when they came across the first door. Beth stopped seeing it, the approaching moment close to her more than ever. Only a few yards away. Glenn paused, sensing her halting as Beth stared at the closed metallic door. The grey walls were dirty, fallen into negligence and misuse. Beth focused her attention on the blood spots but there were none. It had been a while since these walls had seen a fight.
Glenn gave her another look, following her gaze. “Beth,” he softly spoke in a whisper. “You know you don’t have to do this. You can stay back.”
Twisting toward him, Beth looked at his drenched figure, remembering him coming from the watchtower of the prison with Maggie, running away from the downpour as they threw themselves inside the C Block, looking as drenched as now. His expression though looked so different, so much older and stouter that Beth could hardly recognize him as the man Maggie had once smashed eggs on his head.
The thought almost made her hitch in a breath, realizing once more how much they all had changed. She was here now, and she couldn’t turn back. Glenn hadn’t lied. He was sincere in his offer. If she couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t force her. He could never force her to kill anyone, but Beth still knew she had to do it.
“I have to do this, Glenn,” she mumbled. “I have to.”
Glenn gave him a look, and then nodded, and only said, “Let’s go.”
Without another word, they slowly approached the door. The door was locked again, but Glenn opened the easy mechanism without deterrence. He slowly cracked the door, careful not to make a sound that would wake up people inside the room.
Two beds at each side of the room, clothes and other belongings spread out in the space. It was dark, and snores were coming from inside. Like ghosts, they slipped inside, drawing their knives, and dividing in the room toward the beds. Beth took the left one as Glenn pranced toward the right one.
The man was snoring loudly, facing the door, but still unawares of the death was looming above him. Beth watched him, holding her knife, wondering how many people he might have killed until now. She couldn’t even decide if he was one of the soldiers in the outposts or one of the civilians, looking at him now, and trying to decide was…pointless. She was here for this, but her hand still didn’t raise as her eyes kept watching him.
Beth checked his forehead to see if there were any markings, but there was none. She knew even that would have not made a difference, but she still wanted to do it, wanted to be sure. If it was one of the Wolves in the outpost, perhaps it would have been…easier. Beth looked at his face, round cheeks, flushed healthy, not sunken. He was not gaunt but looked well-fed. Possibly one of the soldiers.
It didn’t make a difference, something snapped at her, but Beth still couldn’t raise her hand. Jessie’s vacant, gaunt face came over to her eyes, the way she had looked, the shell of a human being. This man seemed almost peaceful as he slept. Without a care. Unawares.
He let out a deeper snore as Beth stood above like the angel of death, the grim reaper coming down for vengeance. He had dark hair, as long as Daryl’s, sweeping over the tip of his neck. His nose was arched and broad as much as Rick’s, and he also had a pepper-and-salt stubbled like him. Beth wondered what the color of his eyes was for a split second before she also wondered if he had ever killed a woman. A child?
There was a slick but definite sound behind her back, and a part of her, the last remaining part of Hershel Greene’s daughter hated she could recognize that sound without a doubt now. The sound of the knife made when it sliced the flesh. Glen had killed the other one on the other side, killing a man in his sleep.
Beth still stared at the man in front of her, snoring and unaware. His loud breathing resonated in the air, and he stirred. Beth raised her hand, gripping her knife’s handle tighter.
Her hand stopped in the air as her tears broke and ran down across her cheeks. Glenn was beside her now, gently holding her wrist and lowering it. She looked at him, and he told her it was okay silently, his lips not moving.
It was not okay, but she still could not do it.
She almost let out a hitch of breath, feeling like a failure she had felt after Jessie again, but her hand still didn’t move. Still silent, Glenn let her wrist, drew his knife again, and stabbed into the man’s heart in his sleep.
His eyes were dark brown, Beth saw, when they jerked open with pain and shock, terrorized and confused. Glenn covered his mouth with his other hand as he dived his blade further, took it out, and sliced his chest once more. The sound echoed through her ears in the silence, Glenn still covering the dying man’s mouth.
Beth continued to look at the man, feeling a strange sensation of displacement and detachment. Her hand was still holding her knife. She should have felt useless but her detachment did not let her feel even that. Inside her palm tingled, and Beth remembered her scar. She turned her hand and looked at her palm under the knife’s handle, her scar.
The next time, she promised herself. She was going to do it the next time.
Glenn looked at her after getting up from the dead man’s side. They shared another silence glance, both not still saying anything until Glenn softly spoke, “Let’s go.”
He turned to walk the door, and Beth followed—and—
And suddenly the alarms went off.
# # #
The man was wet and stoic, sitting on the chair inside the small room under the watch tower at the gate, watching them with stern impasse dark eyes, as the brunette woman trembled wet and cold, holding the hot tea they had given her in her shaking hands with difficulty. The duo was worse wet than them, soaked under the downpour so much that Amanda knew they had climbed whole the way uphill since they found them.
The timing of the event increased the sense of doom inside her that she had been experiencing since they left Alexandria. Fear gnawed at her chest. Something was wrong, enough to bring these two in front of the gates of Hilltop at this ungodly hour.
Her mind whirled at Rick, her throat clogged with raw fear as the woman who introduced herself Sherry questioned, her teeth clattering and stammering, “A-are y-you Rick’s wife?”
Her deliriously heated eyes were fixated on Amanda, not giving any attention to the others who were in the room with her. The look she received, the raw quality inside it strung her chest further with fear, tightening her stomach as her protective urge too arose further inside her to put her hand over the gentle bump that her cashmere coat was hiding. To protect her little miracles inside her belly. Carl, standing beside her in front of the duo, slanted a sideways look at her, almost as if he sensed Amanda’s growing fear and tension, and stepped closer to her like his father’s son. He stood as stern and wary as his father would be in the situation, measuring the newcomers with watchful, untrusting wary eyes.
“Yes, I am,” Amanda confirmed, steadying her voice and controlling her fear. She could not succumb to fear and the sense of the doom she was feeling. “Why are you looking for us?”
“You have to call him!” the woman heated up, standing up, spilling the tea in her hands with the act but did not even wince where the hot liquid touched her skin, even the burning contact could not alter her fear and delirium. The sight of her only made Amanda more worried and scared.
“You have to call them back!” Sherry shouted. “It’s a trap!” Amanda closed her eyes for a split second, the world turning around her as her worst fear was confirmed. “They’re walking into a trap!”
The exclamation whirled inside her as the woman continued in her desperate urgency. “They know they’re coming! They’ve known it all along! They have spies among you!” she cried out. “They told them everything! You have to warn them!”
Her last confirmation regained her motor functions as Carl exhaled sharply and demanded heatedly, “Spies! Who are they? Who sold us out?”
Amanda’s mind was still reeling from what she had heard but Sherry elaborated, “Gregory. They know he’s not dead and has been with you. They’ve been in contact since his disappearance.”
A murderous urge hit Amanda, washing her over as the woman continued to explain. Carl gritted his teeth beside her with a feral grunt, sharing her anger. “How?” Amanda questioned, “How could they be in contact?” They had never left Gregory unsupervised, never had left him alone, especially with means to connect outside Alexandria. This also meant he wasn’t alone in the conspiracy, that he had an accomplice who helped him, someone from home.
Her breath caught in her throat, clogging, her chest and stomach seizing at the same time, a name resurfacing through the depths of her heart although Amanda hated it. Tears prickled behind her eyes like needles, blurring her sight. Losing her inner battle, Amanda momentarily touched her belly, sadness and fear making her urge to protect her babies hit her stronger.
Someone from Alexandria had betrayed them, and Amanda knew who it was. She wished it had been her prejudice, but already knew it wasn’t. Carl sharply rasped a breath, coming to the same conclusion as well.
“It must be Spencer!” he seethed out. “He betrayed us! Dad should have just killed him when he threw slurs at you!”
Amanda did not reply to him this time and did not say they could not condemn or kill anyone without proof or for throwing insults at them. She could not have that theoretical discussion about law right now. Not when Spencer was also with Rick.
She turned to the man who had been keeping the watch. “Bring me Gregory!” she ordered, voice hard and urgent. “Now!”
“Amanda!” Carl shouted. “I should go out and find Dad!”
Amanda raised her hand, stopping him, and turned to the woman. She would not even respond to Carl’s demand to leave to look for Rick. She would never accept that, could not endanger him or her babies based on the words without having enough proof for their truthfulness.
The woman did not look like she was lying, the desperation and panic she was extruding was real, but Amanda still could not take the risk. She observed the pitiful condition she looked, wet like a dog under the downpour, obviously spending hours on her feet to climb the top of the hill in the middle of the night, facing many dangers than mere cold weather and a twisted ankle. Anyone who would dare to take such a trip in this foul weather, dare to face the undead in such a climate could be beyond desperation. The reason still fled from Amanda, so she advised herself caution.
If they had reception, she could have at least warned Rick, but they were still in the dark. What they had feared the most before leaving for the attack was happening, a threat rising while they stayed back, with no means of communication between them. Yet, Amanda still could not take the risk. Furthermore, Rick wouldn’t also want it. He hadn’t even wanted her and Carl to come to Hilltop tonight, fearing for them. Carl was hotheaded and afraid, so Amanda was, but she had to think everything twice. Make sure this was not a trap.
“Explain everything from the beginning,” Amanda ordered sternly, her voice steel and dark. “Is this Negan’s trap? He wants us to attack first?” The intel Carol had surfaced had suggested that Negan’s attention was diverted inward, but perhaps they had been wrong. Perhaps Negan didn’t have enough support to march toward the South among his people, and he was using them as his bait now. If they spilled the first blood, Negan would have been justified for a counterattack.
The fact they might have read the situation all wrong raised another panic inside her, constringing her heart further as her hand almost crept over her stomach in fear of such an event. Giving that monster what he wanted. The notion made her sick, but Sherry shook her head frantically, objecting to her inquiry. The stoic man beside her was still silent, only watching them with his impassive expression. Amanda wondered for a second where this man fell, what he was doing, what he was aiming for, what was his angle to coming to them. He acted like a…bodyguard, protecting Sherry, but Amanda could not read further. She could not understand.
Caution, she needed to be cautious.
The man who had been at the watch left the room, obeying her command to find Gregory as Sherry replied aloud, “No, no, it’s not. Negan doesn’t know. His insistence for staying inactive caused Simon and Chris to plot with Gregory,” she explained as Amanda cut her off. She recognized Chris, he was the leader of Satellite Outpost, but she had not heard Simon.
“Who is Simon?”
“He’s Negan’s second-hand man. He’s the worst of the worst. He’s the one who organized the Wolves to terrorize people,” she confirmed as Amanda seethed out with her old fury. “They were his rabid dogs. Simon isn’t happy with Negan’s inactiveness. He set you up with Chris.”
As the woman revealed further, Amanda had understood it was the opposite of what she had surmised. It was not Negan who set them up, but his minions. The fact would have relieved her, but it didn’t. It just cemented her belief that men like Negan drew people as sick as them around his axis. Negan had turned inward to deal with his domestic problems, refusing to attack them, but the people who had been drawn to him with the greed and prospect of riches did not like it and they were looking for more victims to take advantage of.
“They want you to create bloodshed at the Satellite Outpost so that Negan would feel pressed for repercussion, so they let you attack them,” Sherry revealed with certainty. “They want you to kill their own people!”
The bastardy of their cruelty made her grimace tighter. They were using them to do their dirty job. For a frameup.
“If Rick starts this bloodshed, Negan will not stop!” Sherry cried out. “You don’t know him!”
Amanda looked back at the desperate woman staunchly although her chest constringed with the pity she saw in the woman’s raw desperation, imaging the pain and suffering she had had to endure for such a claim. There was a part of her that still could not decipher why she had come to Hilltop, for what she was looking for here, but her desperation was more than real.
“We know people like him,” she said cooly, remembering all the bastards who took sick pleasure in hurting people; Grady, the perverts in the woods, the Terminus. The Wolves. The bastards who always thought they could do whatever they wanted just because they could. Amanda still would like to teach them another lesson.
“Then you should be as afraid as of me,” Sherry replied, her voice rough and hoarse, fear and tears clogging her vocals. “The stories you must’ve heard about him are nothing against the reality. You should stop Rick before it’s too late.”
A shiver ran down her spine, and Amanda asked although she knew she should have not, especially while Carl was still beside her, “What did he do to you?”
“He let my husband live because I accepted to sleep with him after we returned, burned half of his face with an iron bolt instead, and said it was a mercy.”
His lips were so set in a grimace hearing the couple’s horrible fate, feeling also resigned because she knew they could have stopped it if only they had taken the leap of faith and come with Rick when they had found them at the Junkyard. She imagined herself being forced for such a thing to save Rick’s life, and imagined Rick getting hurt like that, and quickly dispersed the thought away from herself, could not even think about it another second.
“He kept me as his plaything while he forced Dwight to serve him to torture him more, and he laughed at it,” the woman continued, sickening her core worse as her hand crept over her stomach once more, her anxiety and fear bringing her babies into such a cruel world increasing inside her. Carl sidled her closer, sensing her distraught, and held her hand briefly, and Amanda felt she was failing him. He should have never heard such horrible stuff, let alone be the one who soothed her now.
“He’s a monster.”
That Amanda could not agree with more, so she asked instead, “How are you here? How did you come to the Satellite Station?” From the way she talked about this monster, it sounded like he liked toying with people and their weaknesses, taking pervert pleasure from it, and people like him also did not like…letting go of their toys. Forcing a woman to sleep with you in front of her husband, and then making fun of him…Did this man not have even an ounce of decency in his veins, no common sense and sensibility?
“Laura stepped in,” the woman replied as Amanda tilted her head, this time a bit surprised. What Carol and the man from the Kingdom had revealed about this kingpin woman would not hint at such an intervention, saving someone from their ill-fate…unless she was angling for something else, Amanda surmised quickly.
“Do you know who she is?” Sherry questioned and Amanda gave a tight nod, not wanting to elaborate further in front of Carl.
“She was afraid Negan was getting…too distracted with me and Dwight. She wanted us gone, so she orchestrated our transfer to the Satellite Outpost, as far as away from Negan. She convinced him to let me go.”
Amanda took all this information in stride, not knowing how to decipher it. Sherry sounded as if Negan had developed an obsession with her, and the queen of the Sanctuary did not like it and wanted her as far as away from Negan. Amanda could understand the pervert’s natural inclination for an obsession with a woman in Sherry’s position, wringing another kind of sick pleasure from his dominance over her, remembering Dawn’s sick pleasure at the face of their submission. What had startled her was the second proof of the woman’s clear power over Negan. She convinced him to let me go. The way Sherry had uttered that statement still carried her begrudging gratitude toward the woman, laced with hot contempt and resentment.
If Negan is the devil, Laura is the snake in the Eden.
Her eyes shot a look at the stoic man who was still watching the scene as impassive as he had arrived, and something tugged at her. What if she was getting caught in a plot? She returned to the woman. “Sherry, who sent you?” she asked openly, measuring and surmising. The taciturn Indian man’s expression did not betray him, but a glint in his dark eyes told Amanda she was on the right track.
“For what purpose?”
“I—” Sherry stammered. “Dwight—he learned about the attack from Chris today. They’d let him and he told me. I went to Naomi. She runs the Satellite’s House in Laura’s place. I told her, and she told me she already knew it. She knows about everything about you, Amanda,” Sherry revealed as her heart leaped in her throat, beating against her trachea. “She even knows you sent a spy to King Ezekiel to convince him to join you, but he refused.”
Stunned with shock, her hand flew to her mouth, the trap that was circling them getting more visible as fear gripped her whole heart. She breathed raggedly as the woman continued, “Her spies are everywhere. I begged him to stop Simon and talk to Negan before it was too late, but she told me it was already too late. She said a conflict between you is inevitable, and you wouldn’t stop until Negan forced you to submission.”
Amanda frowned deeper with her pinched eyebrows, glaring at her. That was what they had also surmised and wanted to attack first, but if they thought, they would have been forced to submission, they were going to get something else. “We won’t kneel.”
“I don’t want you to,” the woman cried out. “But you don’t know them!” she repeated, tears breaking and freely running down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her hands, shaking her head. “They all want war! And they will not stop until they get it. They all have plans within plans. Laura wanted me to warn you about the attack, used me as her mole to tip you off. She wanted you to know about it and I have no idea what her plan is. She’s a spider weaving her webs into everything!”
“We won’t get caught into anyone’s webs,” Amanda replied, voice firm and steady, fixating on the woman and the man, understanding her gut feeling had been right. Laura had sent Sherry to warn them. She was playing a game like Sherry had said, although Sherry could not see it, Amanda suspected the ambitious woman wanted…more chaos. People like her and Negan were fed on the chaos, getting more powerful. Through the chaos, Dawn had taken control of them at Grady, promising order.
“But if you know she’s using you for her ends, why did you come, Sherry?” she asked, and the woman’s eyes cut over to the stoic man, and they shared a brief glance that neither Carl nor she missed.
“Because it’s the right thing,” she replied. “W-we tried to reach you through the radio, but we couldn’t have reception. So I decided to try my chances to find you. Shubham agreed to bring me here. He’s one of the guards that protect Naomi and her girls.” Sherry slanted another glanced at the man. “Without him, I couldn’t manage.”
Amanda returned toward him too as he still sat in the chair as cool as an ice block. “And why did you do it, Shubham.”
“Because it’s the best thing,” he replied, voice hoarse and gruff. “You may believe we’re all monsters, but we’re not. Some of us just look for peace.”
Amanda scoffed with disdain, fixating on the man with a derisive look with contempt. He was working for a woman who used women as merchandise, exploiting them in the worst ways. “Peace?”
“Peace,” he confirmed, voice serious and not offended at all. “Simon and Chris made a pact. They will kill your husband and Michael so they take their place.” Her heart sank further with the conspiracy, refusing to believe the only remaining person from the Monroe family had betrayed them for political power although Amanda knew about Spencer’s ambitions. “Men like them… they never bring peace.”
“Ambitious people?” Amanda asked, giving the man a look, but he scoffed derisively.
“Stupid people,” he answered. “Chris and Simon aren’t stupid, but Gregory and this man you speak of must be for trusting them. Laura wanted to warn you because she doesn’t want Simon to get stronger.”
That much Amanda had also surmised, but it wasn’t making her decision easier. Plots within plots. In desperation, she didn’t want to be the woman’s pawn, either. She took her radio from her pocket, her fingers also brushing her ankle gun, and called in Rick, but still had no reception.
“Amanda!” Carl called out, his voice getting frantic. “We should find Dad. Warn them before they attack!”
That, Amanda also wanted, she wanted to warn them despite the games whoever might be playing with them, her panic raising with her fear, but the part of her that wanted to touch her belly again made her swallow, a tight lump sitting in the base of her throat. The thought of her babies mixed with the fearful prospect of Rick walking into a trap… The possible outcomes almost dropped her to her knees, imagining the bloodshed they would find waiting for them.
Those monsters… the Wolves. They loved infecting pain.
She turned to the man, her fears whirling her panic even further despite her best effort to stay calm and rational, her heightened hormones wreaking havoc all over her endocrine system. If Rick—she stopped her thought, could not even think about it, the way she had felt when Rick had joked if he wasn’t around echoing in the back of her mind. No… No… Amanda was not going to think about it.
He was going to return. Even if they were set up, Rick would have noticed it. Improvising, fighting out of desperation situations were his best ability. Her husband would not become easy prey for their trap.
“How long did it take you to get here on foot?” she inquired to compare the timelines to have more situational awareness at least. They were in the dark, and Amanda could not delve into a trap herself blindfolded either while she was carrying two babies.
The man quickly answered, realizing what she was trying to do. “A bit more than two hours. The roads are a mess. Our tires got stuck in the mud eve before we made the half-way of their climb. We didn’t see them around in the woods, but they can’t go to the Outpost easily with the vehicles, either.”
For once this foul weather was working to their benefit, not against them. Amanda checked her wrist to read her watch and confirmed only one hour and a quarter had passed since Rick and the others had left. Sherry and her guard had left their compound before Rick and the others left Hilltop. They hadn’t intercepted each other on the way, but Rick and the others might have not arrived yet. It was a possibility that Amanda could not let go for naught.
Making her decision, stern, she turned to her stepson. She knew the reaction she was going to receive, so she stayed adamant, squaring her shoulders steadily before stating, “You’ll stay here, Carl. I’ll go with them.”
The outburst from Carl had even more vitriol than Amanda had expected. “NO! YOU WILL NOT!” he shouted. “I’m going, not YOU!”
“We can come in a hot zone,” the Indian man cut in, his eyes measuring Amanda this time with another assessing look, lingering on her cashmere coat and over-pricey boots. The deductions he was getting were clear in his gaze as his look swept toward Car’s battle-hardened demeanor, assessing him more a fighter than her. “If you don’t know how to shoot—”
Amanda cut him off, “I’m a cop wife,” she said. “I know how to shoot.”
“I’m coming,” Carl insisted in the interim. “You’re not going without me. If they don’t take me, I’ll follow you alone after you leave. You know I’d do.”
Amanda let out a sigh, knowing it was also true. For a second, she even wondered if she should have listened to Rick and left him back in Alexandria. She hadn’t wanted to be alone at Hilltop after Rick left, and she hadn’t wanted him to stay back when they left, either, but endangering Carl still felt wrong. Even endangering her babies felt wrong, but she couldn’t let Rick face a trap such as this when she could stop it. This was the reason she had wanted to come to Hilltop in the first place.
And so Carl had come for it. For not leaving her alone. “Your father is going to take our hides,” she murmured as she took her ankle gun out of her pocket and checked her magazine. The man checked her experienced movements with narrowed eyes, assessing her again, but Amanda did not pause. Cop’s wife did know how to shoot, it was a reasonable, good cover.
The guard that had left the room to look for Gregory returned at that moment, his distraught wet face bearing the bad news on his expression clearly even before he exclaimed, “Gregory is gone! We couldn’t find him anywhere! He took one of the jeeps!”
Amanda hissed, having the last proof of the truth of Sherry’s claims about the man’s disappearance, panic enticing her tighter. Her practiced fingers shook with her increasing fear, the anxiety reaching another level in her. The jeep was gone, too. Rick had left the off-road vehicle for her and Carl in case of urgency such as the one they were having, but the old sleazy fool had also taken it! The lack of the jeep hit her worse than the man’s disappearance. If they could not find a suitable vehicle that would traipse in the hard terrain in these foul conditions, they would never reach Rick in time.
When she got her hands on this sleazy fool and Spencer, she was going to tear them a new one!
“Is there another vehicle we can take?” she asked the guard, “Something that would bear this downpour?”
“There’s Doctor Carson’s modified WV camper bus,” the man asked. “It might endure the road.”
Amanda quickly nodded, rushing toward the door. When she yanked it open, the strong freezing wind howled at her face, whipping at her with rain. Amanda did not even pause and started to sprint in the dark back toward the trailer she had left with Carl half an hour ago. She was getting soaked again, rain pouring down over her head, sticking her hair to her face in the cold, but Amanda did not falter, did not pause. Everything inside her was focused on reaching Rick in time now, her babies would take this for their daddy. Amanda trusted her little miracles. The rest, she was going to handle. Protect them and their daddy. She would not let anything happen to the father of all of her babies.
She cast a glance at the biggest baby who ran beside her with the same determination, taking strengthen for his adamant company. Rick’s son. Carl reached out and took her hand as they ran, and Amanda squeezed his fingers, giving each other support. They didn’t even bother to take an umbrella this time, they just ran. Rain and cold were just another opponent they were going to fight against today.
When they arrived at Doctor Carson’s trailer, Amanda banged at his door in the middle of the night once more. Behind the medical FEMA trailer on the other side, Amanda took a peek at the camper bus that the guard had mentioned. The others stood behind her as Amanda and Carl fit into the narrow steps of the small staircase together, Amanda continuing to knock on the metal door under the howling wind. Rain pattered against the metal surface and windows, swallowing the sounds she made. Amanda hit harder, hollering above the wind for the man until the lights were lit and the doctor showed up, opening the door.
In his hand, he was holding the lamp once more in the dark to see them, his sleepy tired eyes looking wary and afraid. “Has something happened?” the man asked, raising his voice over the wind, his gaze passing behind her and fixating on the newcomers.
“Yes! We need to leave for the Satellite Outpost!” Amanda shouted without mincing the words. “We need your Camper! Now!” She paused, another thought occurring to her, the worst scenario. If they were late, if they had walked into the trap unknowingly, perhaps a doctor in the field might help them.
“Doctor Carson!” Amanda started, raising her voice over the howling wind further, getting closer to the man, and asked openly, “Can you come with us? Rick and the others have gone into a trap. I know it’s dangerous but they might need your help!”
The obstetrician looked conflicted, and Amanda did not fault him. This was beyond his training, but they needed to make do with what they had, and he was the only doctor they had right now. The man nodded after the brief interim, and they started to race the WV camper bus this time. Shubham took the wheel and they didn’t stop him. Carl took the passenger seat as Amanda sat in the back with the woman who had endangered herself for coming here tonight with Doctor Carson.
Doctor Carson looked pained and horrified when Amanda briefly summarized the situation, the trap they were waiting for Rick and Michael, and the participation of their former leader. The hippie bus took the gravel muddy road downhill, steadily but determinately working against the elements.
“But how Gregory was contacting them?” the doctor asked, trying to understand the logistics. The same thought was in her too, but not for tonight. It was something Amanda had told herself she was going to find out later, but she understood the doctor’s puzzlement. “I thought your home was out of range even for the long-range radios. How did they plan this?”
It was the taciturn bodyguard that answered the mystery with a stout, firm voice that carried certainty. “Satellite phones,” he spoke behind the wheel, his eyes fixated on the dark road, alert and wary of the dangers hiding ahead. Amanda pondered it for a few seconds and then everything clipped in. “The Outpost has Satellite phones. Simon must give him one for emergency contact.”
The fact that they had missed such big stuff under their nose made Amanda want to hurl something in the air and holler in anger but advising herself calmness, she composed herself. It was not the time to get angry for their fuckups once more. First, she needed to save the man she loved, and the people she cared about.
Her hand crept over to her stomach over her wet coat, her fear cementing her determination. I’m gonna protect your daddy, sweethearts, she swore to her babies inwardly. I will not let happen anything to him.
From the backseat, Amanda saw Carl’s profile getting graver and bleaker, his katana laid over his knees and his fingers gripped the handle tightly under his knuckles turned white. The Indian man’s eyes cut over to him, checking him and his katana. His eyes were assessing, but whatever he had seen in Carl, he left it to himself.
Rick, hold on, Amanda ferociously implored then from inside, letting out a breath, staring at Carl’s stern face, thinking of Judith and their unborn babies, their little family. We’re coming.
The fear of losing him was strong in her as much as the time she had thought he had fallen into his death, the time when they had become separated amidst the undead, and Amanda remembered the joke she couldn’t even bear hearing from his lips, her breath shortening. Her eyes started to get teary, and she told herself it was because of her pregnancy, her heightened hormones, and her lips trembled as her hand went over her stomach once more, holding back her tears.
“You’re pregnant…” the whispering voice of Sherry cut off the bleak silence in the vehicle over the sounds of pattering rain on the windshield, and then a heavy, tense silence followed the woman’s stunning remark, voice laced with disbelief.
“You’re truly pregnant…” she murmured again as if she truly couldn’t believe it, her gaze fixated on her hands that were still laid over her gentle bump under her coat.
Carl and the bodyguard slanted a look at them from the front seats as Amanda lifted her head and started at the woman, but no words left her mouth. No one talked, too, as if there was nothing to say.
And there was nothing to say. Rick was leading a war against a Goliath, and Amanda was pregnant with twins. She had demanded it, even begged him to give her a baby. The impulsiveness of her strong desire made her duck her head once more, reading the same sentiment from the woman’s expression as she had done from everyone who had realized she was pregnant. Pity for her foolishness, compassion for her predicament. Amanda forced the thoughts and emotions that evoked inside her away from herself, her hands still holding her gentle bundle, repeating to herself her babies were a miracle, not a mistake.
The Satellite Outpost loomed on the horizon in the purple sky less than a half hour later, rain still pattering against the windshield. Amanda stared ahead, standing up from her seat and leaning between the front seats to peer at outside, her ears perking. A heavy stone dropped into the pit of her stomach at the sight and sounds.
All the outpost was lit, lights pouring out of the windows, and gunshots… Gunshots were echoing under the heavy rain and howling wind.
Despite their best efforts, they arrived late.
The trap had ensnared them.
no subject
Date: 2025-03-16 01:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-03-16 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-03-27 07:52 pm (UTC)Suspense can be cut with a knife...can't wait to see how you unfold the storyline
no subject
Date: 2025-03-28 09:07 am (UTC)Unfortunately, my country is in a mess right now, we've been having hard times in Turkey since last week, so I couldn't do anything since last week, but I'll get back to writing as soon as possible. I'm soo happy to see you again, keeping me company.
Suspense, yes, exactly. We've built up the Satellite Attack for chapters, and it's the epitome of it :) The next chapter will be...hard to read :((