BItter hearts

Chapter 4

Y/N’s POV

Marco was standing at one end of the canteen when you sauntered up to him a few days after the ambush of Negan’s group out on the road. It was a long room on the first floor of the high-rise office block that you called home, purpose built with a kitchen attached, and had fed hundreds of hungry workers, back when the world still made sense, meaning that it had come equipped with tables, chairs, plates, cutlery… Everything you needed to keep a community relatively civilised. With his buzzcut and broad shoulders, your second in command cut an intimidating figure as he watched over proceedings, his rifle at the ready, constantly aware. He’d been a soldier before, or so he’d told you, and that had worked for you, having a right-hand man that was already conditioned to follow orders without question. He looked up as you approached, his steely stare softening as you propped yourself against the wall beside him.

‘Morning, boss.’

'Good morning.’ You took a minute to survey those sat at the tables, bolting back steaming plates of breakfast before the day’s tasks began. 'How’re things?’

'Good,’ he told you with a confident nod. 'All quiet.’

‘Great.’ It was always a relief when the community was calm. A new intake sometimes had the potential to stir things up, but it was a necessary risk for the additional manpower they provided. ‘Have you seen Samuel? I want to have a chat with him about the outreach teams, find out if they have anything new on their radar.’

Your belief that a strong offence was the best defence meant that you had squads working around the clock to seek out new groups and bring them under your control. Samuel, an ex-Geography teacher whose knowledge of Virginia and the surrounding states was unrivalled, headed up the operation, but both you and Marco kept a close eye on his plans.

‘Outreach?’ Marco’s brow creased in a deep frown. ‘Me and Sam kinda thought we’d hold off on that for a while. I mean, with the new intake from the factory, we’re getting pretty tight on space. We’ve got a lot of work to do here before we can take anyone else in.’

You tilted your head to one side, fixing him with a disapproving glare, smirking a little when he dropped his gaze to the ground and shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t like him to question you and it wasn’t a habit you wanted to encourage. ‘So, that means we should just stop looking? Would’ve expected you and Samuel to know better, Marco. We have to go after them before they come after us, right? That’s how we stay alive. There’s gotta be more survivors out there, and they will find us if we don’t find them first.’

‘But even if they do, who’s to say they’re gonna want to fight, huh? What if they want to work together, collaborate, trade? This aggression, it’s only going to get us so far.’

‘So far?’ You turned to face him, fingers drifting up to rest on the holster fixed to your belt, tightening around the cool metal of your gun. ‘So far, it’s kept hundreds of people safe, in case you hadn’t noticed. So far, it’s meant that not one of them has had to go hungry, and that there hasn’t been a breach in our fences in over nine months. This aggression, as you call it, is exactly what’s needed.’

‘Alright, alright.’ He backed down, raising his hands in a show of submission until your own dropped back to your side, tapping absently against your thigh as the room around you began to empty. ‘I’ll tell Sam to get the patrols running again, have them move West, fan out. If there’s anyone out there, we’ll find them.’