Daryl's Angel: Saviour (Book Two)

Chapter 56: Rock in the Road

With our van nearly stuffed to the gills, we make the journey to what Jesus refers to as "the Kingdom." Maybe it's the former theatre kid in me, but the name alone intrigues me; I keep picturing a survival base set up like a Renaissance Fair.

Only when the van finally pulls to a stop, we find ourselves in a place much like any other—a parking lot surrounded by brick buildings, all overgrown with weeds. I peer through the window, stretching myself over Daryl to try and see if there's something I missed. Rick and Jesus get out, speaking to one another in low tones. Jesus keeps gesturing around himself while Rick stares at everything with narrowed eyes.

"Hey," Daryl says as he opens the van door, poking his head out. "What the hell we waitin' on?"

"Waiting for them," Jesus says, pointing.

Daryl steps out of the car, shielding his eyes from the sun, and I follow him out, eager to see what Jesus is pointing at. I hear them first, the clopping of horse hooves on concrete. Two men approach on horseback, decked out in sports padding on their chests, knees, and elbows.

One of the men raises a makeshift spear into the air. "Who dares to trespass on the sovereign land of the—" he shouts, only to stop abruptly. When he speaks next, his voice carries less bravado. "Oh, shit. Jesus, is that you?"

Jesus raises one hand in greeting. One rider pulls ahead—he's middle-aged with short dark brown hair, stubble, and a large nose.

"Who are all these people, Paul?" he asks as he stops his horse.

"Hi, Richard. Nice to see you," Jesus replies.

"It's good to see you, too." Richard's gaze flicks over us, wary. "Your friends, who are they?"

"This is Rick Grimes. He's the leader of a like-minded community. These are some of his people. We would like to request an audience with King Ezekiel."

Richard dismounts, approaching the vehicle. He keeps one hand on the hilt of the machete hanging at his side, the other holding a handgun. "Get out of the car," he calls.

The others get out, one by one. Daryl's hand flits to the small of my back.

"You say they're a...like-minded community," Richard says to Jesus as he watches everyone gather. "Like-minded how?"

"We live, we trade, we fight the dead. Sometimes others."

Richard's eyebrow lifts, but he nods. "Alright, line up."

"Okay, this is a waste of time," Daryl says. "Come on. Let's go."

"Maybe you're right," Richard says. "The King is a busy man, and it's a dangerous world. We don't usually allow a pack of strangers to waltz through our door."

"We want to make the world less dangerous, and we are all here to show the King how serious we are about that," Michonne says. She hesitates for a second when referring to the King, but she recovers smoothly.

"Car stays outside and you've gotta hand over your guns," Richard says.

"We only have two," Rick says. He hands over his Python, and Carl follows suit with his handgun.

"Alright. Follow me."

The other man, still seated on his horse, clicks his tongue, spurring his animal forward while Richard takes the reins and leads his horse ahead of us. Daryl takes my hand, and I squeeze it in reassurance.

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Okay, Renaissance Fair was a little lofty even for me, but the Kingdom itself is still something to behold. An idyllic community stretches out before us—gardens, red-bricked buildings with white trim, gazebos, clotheslines covered in drying laundry. The community bustles with people of all ages, races, and sizes.