Daughter of the Fallen

Do Not Send Us Astray

The next morning, I waited in front of the big house, waiting for the horn. Daryl gone out at around midnight and said he would blow the horn when the Saviors were close. I kept my twitching hand on my gun.

I forced myself not to think about Carl. Crying and talking to Maggie helped, but it was still a piercing knife in my heart. I couldn't afford to be distracted right now.

Suddenly, the faint sound of Daryl's horn cut through the breeze and Jerry, who was on gate watch, turned to me.

"Get your group ready, Jerry!" I ordered. He nodded and got to work.

I quickly went into the house. Everyone was inside getting their guns ready.

I saw Henry arguing with Carol and Ezekiel to let him fight. I rolled my eyes and started doing a headcount.

Carol must have said no because Henry came over to me.

"Bree, can you tell Carol that I can fight?" he asked.

I sighed, not taking my eyes off of my people.
"I think you should listen to her, now if you'll excuse me..."

"But Bree-" he started.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, anyway, Henry?" I snapped.

His expression turned to hurt and he walked away. I felt a twinge of guilt since he really was only a couple years younger than me but I knew I couldn't focus on that right now.

"Alright!" I called to my people. "Let's move out!"

Outside, I got everybody into position before going up to join Maggie on the balcony.

Now, it was just a waiting game.

•••

Night had fallen by the time the trucks rolled up to the gate.

Jerry gave us the signal and Maggie took a deep breath.

"Here we go," she mumbled.

"Let's do this," I added.

Maggie grabbed her walkie talkie that connected to Simon's.

"Negan," she spoke into it. "I wanna talk to Negan."

A moment passed before we got a response.

"Hello there," Simon's voice came through. "You are speaking to Negan, but my birth certificate says 'Simon'. With whom do I have the distinct displeasure of speaking?"

"Maggie," she answered. "Maggie Rhee. The widow. Bree's here, too."

"Oh, hey, Bree!" he cheerily greeted. "Sorry about your boyfriend."

A rush of anger coursed through me.

"Don't worry about it," I replied. "You're next."

"Really?" he asked. "Because it looks to me like Ricky isn't here."

"Then I'll do it myself," I said forcibly.

He chuckled. "Anyway, hello again, Widow Rhee. And allow me to offer my condolences for what's happened and what's about to happen. In case it's not already as plain as Hilltop potatoes, yours truly is speaking on behalf of Negan this go 'round. And I assure you that the man himself personally received your care package next day delivery. I noticed that it was the box I gave you in good faith. Trick's on me. But the bill's come due, and you and your people are gonna have to pay. Quite dearly, I'm afraid."

Maggie slowly raised the walkie talkie.

"Your 38 people are alive and breathing," she informed. "Turn around and leave us be and they stay that way. But if you don't, I have 38 bullets that I will personally fire into all 38."