The Becoming

Blood; thick, hot, sticky blood that drained out of those of us who still had a beating heart. I have become so accustomed to seeing blood. Every time I kill a walker its blood is everywhere. On my hands, my arms, my clothes, my shoes, my face, and even in my mouth. But a walker's blood was different. It was a congealed brown substance that sprayed upon impact before slowly leaking out of the body. It was nothing compared to the image of seeing the blood spill out from a person who still owned their mind, their life.

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My body shook with both rage and fear. My eyes remained glued to Rick and the intruder speaking to him. I didn't dare look at the man whose hand shoved the barrel of a Glock firm to my temple, in fear that even a glance might end my life.

I watched as Rick's entire demeanor changed. It was like the flip of a switch. As soon as the gun made contact with his skin his jaw tightened, his eyes remaining locked on the pavement as his body went stiff with fury. His top lip quivered like a rabid dog in a defensive mood. He slowly raised his hands, biting his tongue not to say anything out of rage to get us all killed.

"Today is a day of reckoning, sir," the man who looked to be the one calling the shots said. "Restitution. A balancing of the whole damn universe," he continued. We listened as he spoke, yet not much of what he was going on about made any sense to us. Michonne looked over at me, the whites of her eyes prominent as she looked past me to where Carl was asleep in the car. "Shit, and I was thinking of turning in for the night on New Year's Eve!" he bellowed, a deep laugh coming from his stomach. He was taunting us, but I still don't know why.

"Get out here," a man from behind me snarled. I could hear the car door opening before Carl's body hit the floor, "Stay down." he ordered.

"Now who's gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh?" the leader asked, another laugh escaping his lips. I looked up at the two men standing across from us with their weapons drawn. They laughed in amusement as the man began to count down. "Ten Mississippi! Nine Mississippi! Eight Mississippi!"

Rick's body shook harder, his anger beginning to boil over yet there was nothing we could do. Five guns pointed at our heads while we were weaponless. Five psychopaths circled us and we knew no amount of talking would get us out of this situation. They snuck up on us for no reason. We had nothing they could steal, nothing to our names that would be any use to them. Their only motive was to kill us simply because they could.

"Joe!" a man's voice called out from behind me. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I was sure that I was hearing things. One; that no one was actually there to stall Joe, or two; if there was someone there it just sounded like him.

My head turned for the first time as the man walked up to us. I looked past the guy with a gun to my head and sure enough, my ears did not deceive me. Daryl stood there in the center of the circle. His winged biker's vest on, garbage bag in hand, and his crossbow thrown over his shoulder. He made it out, he is alive. His eyes landed on me, his jaw tightening before he looked back up at Joe.

"Hold up!" he said, his voice shook. Seeing all four of us still alive was a shock to him. I could see he was overwhelmed, shame overcoming his body language as he looked down at us. He was ashamed for all those times he told me to move on, that no one we loved was left alive. He was also ashamed that the men he found shelter with had his family prepared for execution.

"You're stopping me at eight, Daryl," Joe exhaled, he was annoyed.

"Just hold up," Daryl said again. He was stalling him, trying to strategize something to say.

"This is the guy who killed Dave and Tony, so we got nothing to talk about," the man who stood across the circle finally spoke up. That one statement pieced everything together for me. It was so long ago, but these men were part of Randall's group. The description of them alone being the deciding factor that Rick needed to kill Randall before he backed out. They were back for revenge after the night in town at the bar. They wanted Rick dead for killing their friends when it was actually I that killed Dave and Tony.

"The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time to talk," Joe responded, intrigued by what Daryl had to say. "Say your piece, Daryl."

"These people, you're gonna let 'em go," he paused, not breaking eye contact with Joe. He wasn't defensive or demanding, instead, he was trying to negotiate. "These are good people."

"Now, I think Dave and Tony would disagree with you on that. I'll, of course, have to speak for them and all 'cause your friend here shot them point-blank in a bar." Joe argued, yet his voice remained calm.

"You want blood, I get it," Daryl said. I watched as he threw his crossbow off to the side and slowly raised his hands. "Take it from me, man." Daryl offered his life for ours. My heart raced as I waited for Joe's response.

Joe furrowed his brows at Daryl. At first, he looked touched by his noble action before he said, "This man killed our friends. You say he's good people. See, that right there is a lie." Daryl dropped his hands to his side, his face dropping like he knew what Joe meant by that. "It's a lie!" Joe shouted.

Within seconds the two men standing in the circle across from us jumped Daryl. The first one hitting him in the gut with the back of his rifle. Daryl's body hit the concrete and they were on top of him.

"No!" Rick yelled out before restraining himself.

I shut my eyes tight as I heard Daryl's body being dragged across the ground as he struggled. They pulled him to the other side of the car. Throwing him up against the metal before repetitively punching him.

"Teach him, fellas. Teach him all the way!" Joe called out, laughing.

The hefty man who had Carl pinned then picked him up off of the ground and dragged him closer to us.

"You leave him be!" Rick shouted, his voice low and demanding. Rick got halfway to his feet before Joe shoved him back down to his knees.

I turned my upper body in the commotion, my eyes finally meeting the member of the group who held me in place. He had a blue bandana wrapped around his forehead, his hair buzzed off and his eyes as black as coal as he stared down at me. He pressed the barrel to my forehead, "You'll get yours. You just wait," he snarled, gritting his teeth together.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the blurry man pick up Carl and place him on his feet before wrapping his arms around him and placing a knife to his throat to keep him still.

"Listen, it was me. It was just me," Rick said, his voice filled with rage as lied for my benefit. He was desperately trying to defuse the situation.

"See, now that's right. That's not some damn lie," Joe got excited, bringing his face down to Rick's ear. He placed his hand down on Rick's shoulder. "Look, we can settle this. We're reasonable men."

My eyes glanced over at Daryl as my pulse began to rise as they threw him to the ground once again. They kicked him in the chest and I knew he would not be able to take much more of it.

"First, we're gonna beat Daryl to death," Joe explained. He was insane. "Then we'll have the girls and God are they pretty. And then… the boy," Joe said, his eyes zeroing in on Rick's side profile. He was taunting him with us. He was creating the most amount of suffering possible before he killed Rick. "And then I'm gonna shoot you and then we'll be square."

Joe laughed, the deepest laugh I've heard come out of his chest. He wouldn't stop. My mind raced back and forth, I needed to do something. I could feel my chest tightening up as I was about to say it. I wanted to throw them off, but my mouth would not open up to release the words. The man who held Carl pushed him to the ground again. He knelt and sat on top of him.

"Stop your squirming," he laughed as he pinned both of Carl's arms down. He was entertained by Carl's groans and gasps for air with his weight on top of his chest.

Michonne then tried one last-ditch effort to reach for her sword when one of the men pistol-whipped her across the face. Her body hit the pavement with a thud.

The noises were tormenting. The gun hitting Michonne's cheekbone, Daryl's gut being repetitively kicked, Carl's whimpers, Rick begging to let him go. The words finally escaped my lips.

"I killed Dave and Tony!" I shouted, loud enough where I knew Joe heard me. His laughter immediately stopped, his face dropping. My head shifted slightly so I could look him dead in the eyes. "Shot them right between the eyes, point-blank like you said." There was silence again. All of the men stopped what they were doing to listen to my revelation. Joe's eyes narrowed when looking at me, examining my face as I stared daggers at him. If I was going to die at the hands of a psychopath I at least wanted him to know the truth, I had the one up. He was wrong the entire time. "I'd do it again too."

His focus was so dialed in on me that Rick took this as an opportunity. He swung his head backwards, the back of his skull hitting Joe directly on the bridge of his nose. Joe's gun went off, the bullet hitting the pavement by Rick's feet as he grabbed onto his broken nose. Rick cracked his neck, his eyes staring straight ahead. He looked as if his soul left his body and someone else took over. Joe stumbled backwards, coughing as he became winded with pain. The men all stood still, watching as Joe regained control over the situation.

Rick got to his feet, spinning his torso around and socking Joe across the face. Joe took one step back to catch himself before hitting Rick in the jaw twice as hard. Rick lost his footing and fell to the ground, his physical state in much worse condition than theirs.

"I got him!" Joe called out. He swung his foot back, his shoe connecting with Rick's stomach. "Oh, it's gonna be so much worse now." The men continued what they were previously doing. I could hear Carl's whimpers once again and Daryl's groans as he struggled to get up off of the floor to fight back. "Bring me the girl!" Joe shouted.

The man pulled me to my feet. I squirmed my body so aggressively as his hand dug into my arm. I could feel the blood circulation cutting off and the bruise forming as I fought back trying to rip my arm free.

"Come on, get up!" Joe yelled, bringing his attention back to Rick. Rick struggled to get to his feet. "Come on. Let's see what you've got."

"Get away from them-" Rick growled as he finally stumbled to his feet.

Joe caught Rick in his arms, bear-hugging him as he laughed, "What the hell are you gonna do now, sport?" Joe asked, his face inches from Rick's as he held onto his body tight.

Rick didn't say a word. He threw his head backwards, mouth open, as a deep gurgle escaped. Rick bit down on Joe's neck, the sound of his flesh ripping apart. I stopped struggling in the man's grasp as he stopped tugging me. All of our eyes fixated on what was happening. Rick tipped his head back, tearing a chunk of flesh from Joe's neck. A howl escaped his lungs as I watched Joe's eyes roll to the back of his skull. Thick, deep red blood spewed from his neck, his artery ripped in half between Rick's teeth. Joe choked on the air as he tried desperately to inhale and catch his breath. Rick released him, spitting out the blood and skin from his mouth as Joe's body hit the pavement.

A gunshot then echoed in my ears. My focus was drawn from the scene and over to Michonne. She turned the gun on the man who pointed it at her, distracted by what Rick had done to Joe. I then turned and yanked my arm free before grabbing both of the man's shoulders and kneeing him in the stomach. He doubled over as I pulled the knife from my boot and stabbed him directly through the base of his jaw.

Daryl swung back at the men who held him, knocking one of them out before Michonne's second shot killed the other one.

"I'll kill him! I'll kill him!" The hefty men spoke frantically, yanking Carl to his feet and placing the knife back to his neck for leverage.

"Let the boy go!" Michonne yelled as she pointed her gun at him.

Rick turned around once he finished Joe off for good, blood-stained into his beard as his hair fell over his face, "He's mine."

Rick walked over to him, the look of revenge in his eyes. The man immediately let go of Carl, his hands rising in surrender as he dropped his blade.

"Stay back. Stay-"

Rick swung his right arm back and then deep into the stomach of the man with his knife. He stared him dead in the eyes as he twisted and turned the blade, slicing the man's stomach from his belly button up to his sternum.

Carl held onto Michonne tight as he watched his father repetitively stab the man that tormented him. Daryl stumbled over from behind the shadow of the car once the last man was dead. I held onto him, turning my back to Rick and burying my face in his chest. Although, no matter how hard I attempted to squeeze my eyes shut I could still hear the sound of the blade loud and clear.