#part 80

Shells | Part 80 (shelliott stardew fic)

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save me and yourself beautiful sad elliott

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The boy was right, this conflict, this war…it had never been the plan. No, the plan was bringing Alexandria to heel and keep going, expanding.

Rick was an idiot, but in hindsight, the leader of the Saviors understood; if he had been in Rick’s place, he’d probably balked at the idea of serving someone else. Negan was no idiot, he knew his system was abused and that his power base was mostly fear, sure, people respected him, but not everyone did it out of worship for his good deeds -however many they were.

It was early morning before Negan reached his rooms, as stealthy as he could, trying not to wake Tory, mindful of the ever-growing dark circles that she seemed unable to get rid of.

“You’re home.” A smile tugged at his lips at the sound of Tory’s raspy voice and Negan turned to his soulmate, whose eyes were barely open.

“Yeah, I’m home.” Negan admitted, propping Lucille in her normal resting place before sitting at the edge of the bed.

“How did it go?”

“It was a fuck show, Gorgeous.” He breathed out, letting the weight off his shoulders. That made her wake up. Propping herself on her elbow, Tory looked at him intently.

“What happened?”

Negan dragged his hands down his face, looking for the words.

“Well, Carl gave us a decent reception, I suppose…”

•• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

The Sanctuary, VA.

A week and four days

Morning

“If you’ve something to say, say it,” Negan prompted his lieutenant, trying to find the defiance he could feel emanating from Simon’s body.

“Maybe we should cut our loses here. These people can’t learn the lesson, no matter how many times we teach it. Alexandria, Hilltop, the Kingdom, those garbage rats,” Simon almost growled. “they’re not seeming to understand the situation, not one little bit.” His right-hand man shrugged. “So maybe we learn our lesson, scrape the plates into the trash, move further out. Find other communities to…save,”

Negan chuckled, thinking of how stretched thin he was already, enough to start having nightmares despite his soulmate’s calming presence in his bed at night.

“Oh, I’m doing my best to hold it together right now. You wanna cut our loses? Thake your own advice; killing everybody to solve the problem, that is the easy way out, not our way. What we do, saving people, it is hard,” Negan punctuated, making his voice harden as he went on. “But it damn well works,”

“Not lately,” Simon’s disagreement was like a slap in the face, but Negan recovered immediately.

“Once I clip Rick, everything is aces again, Simon,” just as he was going to relay his orders to Simon once again looking right into his eyes, a knock interrupted Negan. “yeah?” he asked.

The soft growling that came from behind Gary soured Negan’s mood even further, and it made him fucking somber when he saw the coffin-like box they were carrying. 

“Wha’ the hell’s that?” he drawled.

“Delivery from the Hilltop,” his lieutenant informed him, putting a nail gun over the box cover. “It’s charged, so you can deal with it.”

“Out.” Negan spat as he stood and approached the box. Once his men left, all except Simon, Negan took the nail-gun and read the message on the box. That fucking widow.

Simon opened the box with his knife and an undead arm stuck right out.

“A bit more.” The leader of the Saviors didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

Once.

Twice.

Then a couple more times, just to be sure.   

•• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Tory dropped the little bottle of antibiotic pills with a hiss of surprise as her skin seared in pain. After picking up the bottle, she sat at the edge of Harlan’s desk and uncovered her arm. Sure, there they were, and Tory couldn’t make sense of the words, nor did she wish to ask Negan what they meant, after all if they were disturbing enough, he would tell her himself.

YOU WILL DO. YOUR JOB!

•• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

The Landfill, VA.

A week and four days

Midday

Lucas felt himself shake a little when they stepped through the makeshift tunnel that led into the landfill-slash-community, following Simon into the center of the whole place. Martha had told her she had a bad feeling about the outing, but Lucas had dismissed her fears, telling her that it was merely an intimidation thing.

“I think Simon is going off the rails, Luc. Be careful.” She’d said, making him promise he’d be back. Now he had serious doubts about the purpose of this. If Negan had been leading them, Lucas would’ve been sure of what was about to happen, some gruesome death, some dire promises and then, they’d go back home.

But Simon’s determined stroll told Lucas all he needed to know. Things would get extremely bad. 

Simon waited as Negan spoke through a walkie-talkie, looking casual with his feet crossed over the table.

“Hilltop is covered, the roads and then some, they are out there somewhere, so let’s get balls deep in every nook and cranny they might hole up in,” the leader of the Saviors, his boss, beckoned Simon with a hand gesture before getting back on the walkie. “Nooks and crannies and holes, people. All that shit outside the box,” Negan threw the walkie onto the table and the device rattling echoed in the almost empty room. “Appears our friends at Alexandria had themselves an escape plan. Rick’s little one-eyed pride and joy played me. Damn. That kid? He is built for this shit,”

The pacing Simon had started while Negan talked continued as he answered his boss.

“Let me go out and close this thing,” He offered.

Negan shook his head. “Arat’s got it for now. How did the Hilltop go?”

“As requested,” the words tasted a bit bitter in his tongue but Simon swallowed them.

“Good job. With an extra atta boy on top, given I know you didn’t want to play it that way,” Negan smiled, giving Simon a considering look.

“You heard anything from Gavin?” the lieutenant changed the subject.

“Not yet, but it’s coming,” Negan tapped his fingers on Lucille softly. “Gavin may be perpetually pissed off, but he keeps his shit dry and tight.”

They both agreed on that point, but Simon didn’t quite believed Gavin had everything under control, the whole thing smelled rotten to him.

“I’m not running down Rick and company, where do you want me?” Negan answered his question pointing at the chair in front of him with a sinister grin.

“Garbage people”

Lucas wasn’t sure of the words; he couldn’t quite hear what Simon and Jadis -the weird leader of the landfill people- were discussing. However, Lucas did catch the panicked look that crossed the woman’s face and he knew shit was about to go down.

“Good, eliminating those who reneged might…leave us a tad short on ammo, but it’s worth it.” Simon ventured, trying to devise where Negan’s thoughts were going.

“BULL. SHIT.” Simon shouted, there was a brief exchange of words with other two people, Jadis nodded and then Simon gestured for them to take away their weapons reaching for guns, knives and whatever weapon the garbage people had.

Simon and Jadis kept talking.

Whatever triggered Simon, Lucas would never know, years later, the what still haunted him, every once in a while, he could hear it as if it were happening right there, in front of him again…the distinct sound of a gun being cocked and then the shot. The man besides Jadis dropped dead to the rough ground upending a bucket of blue paint. The woman’s eyes became misty and her jaw was set as she spoke to the lieutenant.

Then Simon pointed the gun at the blond woman behind Jadis.

“NO!”

When the woman dropped dead as well and Jadis knocked Simon to the ground, Lucas knew this was no standard message.

Negan leaned into Simon’s personal space, smiling a tight sort of grin that denounced anger.

“I need you to hear me on this, Simon. Those piss-stained double-crossers may have pulled a triple-cross, but it doesn’t take from the fact that they are still a resource. So, you’re gonna choke back whatever shit is stirring up inside you and remind them that a deal with the Saviors is a lock, stock and suck my barrel deal.”

“Light it up, gents. LIGHT IT UP NOW!” The order was clear and Lucas pulled against his own body to point his gun at these people who were defenseless against the might of the saviors.

“Deliver the standard message, take one out and the rest will fall in line. Just one, Simon.”

The shooting didn’t last long, the people of the landfill dropped like flies between cries of pain and shouts for help, while their leader watched, as helpless as they were, letting tears flow down her cheeks.

They were all dead.

•• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

The Sanctuary, VA.

A week and four days

Afternoon

His eyes were taking in the details as Simon parked the truck in the courtyard. Negan went down the steps to greet his men, feeling wary but determined to find out how his orders were carried out.

“Got it done?” he asked.

“That and then some.” Simon’s tone was almost a song, then his right-hand man looked at him. “You good?”

“Nothing on Gavin,” he admitted.

“We might have to roll back around, find out, end the mystery?” Simon suggested.

“I already sent a team out there,” Something was wrong, Negan didn’t know what, but the bloodlust that Simon had carried a few hours earlier was gone. Completely obliterated.

“Ah, well, I’m sure he’s aye-okay,” a grimace crossed his man’s face. “And if not, we’ll have to send another message,”

A twitch.

“So, tell me how it went,” Negan said blandly, the order implicit in his words.

Simon shrugged lightly. “Standard message and delivery, showed ‘em and told ‘em,” with a sniff and a mock frown, Simon said: “There was remorse.”

“Negan!” a newcomer approached them, a walkie-talkie in his hand.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“It’s Rick.”

Without a word, Negan took the walkie-talkie and stepped away from Simon, Gary and the other man, intrigued by whatever Rick had to say.

Heaving a sigh, Negan pushed the button.

“Ricky, look at ya’, calling me out. You gonna tell me where you are so we can do this face to face?” Negan teased, grimacing a bit as he spoke.

“Carl’s dead.”

Oh.

It was like a punch in the chest, Negan sat down, still listening at what Rick was saying, even through the sound of his blood on his ears.

“…He wrote one to you,” Rick informed him, his slow cadence relying more than just tiredness. It was laden with grief. “He asked you to stop,” Negan shut his eyes for a brief second, willing the sting away. “He asked me to stop, he asked us…for peace,”

Peace? It wasn’t that easy, everyone, even the innocents were up to their elbows in this shit.

“But’s is too late for that, even if we wanted to deal now, it don’t matter,” Rick’s deep despise was nothing compared to what Negan felt against himself. “I’m gonna kill ya’,”

Negan couldn’t care less, better people had tried to kill him, worse people had tried to and Negan was still alive. He wanted to know what happened to Carl.

“How did it happen?” his voice sounded flat in his ears.

“What?” seemingly, Rick wasn’t expecting the interest, so Negan repeated the question.

“How did he die? Was it us? Was it the grenades? …the fire?”

“It wasn’t you,” Rick hissed, anger and frustration coming clearly through the waves. “Carl wen out to help someone… and he got bit.”

A fucking bite.

Negan bit his lip, forcing himself to swallow. “Goddamnit,” he looked up at the upper windows of the Sanctuary, looking for words, but how could he even express the grief he knew wasn’t meant to be his? “I- ah…I’m sorry, I wanted him to be part of things, I had plans…that kid…that kid was the future,”

“The only future is one where you’re dead,” Rick answered. Well, Negan wasn’t ready, nor did he want to die anytime soon.

“Why are you making this so fucking hard, Rick? Carl is dead because of you. Because you couldn’t leave shit well enough alone. He is dead because you weren’t there to stop him from doing something stupid.”

The words were a low blow. Negan knew Rick loved his children, but if the man could think about killing him instead of grieving as he should, why would Negan be considerate?

“You set this course, Rick. Who is next?”

“You are.”

•• ••• •••  ••• •••  •••  •••

Lately, Tory had been unable to wait up for Negan, today was no exception.

Her husband arrived with heavy steps, uncaring of his movements and breaking the ugly vase that Amber suspected was Sherry’s legacy in Negan’s room while he was at it.

Red flag number one.

“Victoria wake up,” His voice rasped, making her jump up and turn on a lamp.

Negan preferred to call her Tory or Gorgeous, sometimes he cracked a good old pet name like darling or honey, but he rarely called her by her name.

Red flag number two.

Tory eyed the tumbler-full of whiskey that her soulmate was carrying with a wary look.

“What is it?”

Negan dried the tumbler in one go and Tory sat up in alarm.

“Rick called,” Negan’s nice drawl sounded flat as he spoke. “He had some bad news.”

With careful steps, Tory approached Negan, avoiding the pieces of the ugly vase before sitting on the coffee table that her make-believe husband was watching as if it held the secrets of the universe.

“What did Rick want?” she asked, taking away Negan’s empty glass and placing it behind her on the table. “What bad news?”

For a few seconds, Negan was quiet, his hazel eyes still avoiding hers. Tory lacked the patience to wait for him to be ready or to look for whatever words he wanted to express, so she took his hands with hers, prompting Negan to look at her, to really see her -red flag number three. Her husband tried to pull away, but Tory squeezed his fingers hard, pulling him to her.

“What happened, Negan?”

“Carl’s dead.”

Tory dropped Negan’s hands, too shocked to notice how his face fell when she let go of him.

“Wasn’t us,” He stumbled through his thoughts, trying to remember that awful night, just two days before. “Carl was bitten, he left some letters,”

“Oh, God, Negan, he was seventeen,” Tory sobbed, feeling tears gather in her eyes. “A fucking bite?”

Both of them shared that one thought, how could it be that someone as savvy and experienced with the dead as Carl was, fall prey to the single most basic thing they all knew to avoid?

“Rick says the kid asked for us to stop this,” Negan turned his eyes skywards, thinking of how difficult that was now that the kid himself was gone. “Not that we could do it if we tried,”

Tory shut her eyes. “Why not?”

“Why not what, Tory?” now they did look into each other’s eyes.

“Why wouldn’t you stop? It’s the dying wish of a boy,” the brunette tried to control her rising temper. Tory knew that Negan and Rick had too many differences, too many dead bodies between them to let the matters rest as they were. She was asking for too much.   

“It won’t bring Carl back,” Negan answered coolly. “He is already dead, we can’t stop, not when our goal is practically within our reach,”

Tory’s trembling fingers tangled in her dark hair as she repeated her -now- nervous tic, while tears poured down her heated cheeks.

“You do realize…” she started, “that this is no longer about a damn goal? Because I don’t see any fucking goal here, Negan,”

Her husband stood up and started pacing like a caged animal.

“Expansion is the goal, Tory, growing stronger, gathering more people, more supplies, more everything,” he growled.

“There’s no winner in this fight, Negan,” Tory pleaded, following the man with her glistening eyes. “Either you kill Rick and Maggie or they kill you. You don’t care about expansion anymore, this is personal,”

“THEY TRIED TO FUCKING KILL ME!” Negan’s roar made Tory jump a little bit, making her feel defensive about her baby bump, that was blissfully covered with her pajamas. Her arm burned immediately after, alerting Tory about the depth of Negan’s feelings, but she was angry at him for not trying to see the situation from her vantage point.

“You killed our friends, Negan, you caused everyone a level of distress that I hadn’t seen in ages. Alexandria will never bend to your will,” Tory surmised, finally getting the words out of her chest.

Negan gave her a dark, sinister look that chilled her to her core.

“Then they’ll die for it.” He growled.

Silent tears made their way down Tory’s face as she watched Negan start to strip, getting himself ready for the night. She still felt cooled by his words, but didn’t say anything when Negan went to the bed and got under the covers.

She wouldn’t convince him tonight.

Deciding on being obedient for one night, Tory dried her tears up and followed his example, getting into the bed, turning off the light and shrouding the room in darkness.

“I told Rick it was his fault,” Negan confessed in a little voice Tory had never heard before. The weight of his declaration made her swallow a gasp. It was cruel, it was low.

“Oh, Negan, why?” she whispered back, snuggling up to him, placing her left hand over his heart, reassuring herself of his heartbeat.

“I wanted him to hurt, because he didn’t want to understand,” Negan’s voice broke a bit as he spoke, but Tory decided to ignore it. “His fucking kid is gone because he couldn’t leave things be,”

Tory sighed and made herself relax when Negan surrounded her with his arms.

“It’s what scares me the most,” she confessed. “you’re both so stubborn, so damn fixed in what you think you want, that I fear…”

Negan let the silence grow between them, though not for long.

“What do you fear, Tory?”

The brunette licked her lips and rolled her eyes upwards, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall again.

“I fear that you won’t stop until you’re both dead, and that Michonne and me? We’ll be left to pick up the pieces, if there are any. I don’t want you to leave me alone, Negan,”

Tory cupped Negan’s cheek with her right hand and he looked down at her in the dark.

“I think that, if I lose you, it will break me beyond repair, whatever is left of me.”

Negan leaned into her touch and kissed her forehead.

“I’ll do my damn best not to leave you, Tory, I promise.”

“He was relieved of command.  He is no longer an officer,” Master Juris said to her truculently.

“So was Mister Mord Halyn Longin,” said Kurin.  “The investigation needs both of them.”  The proceedings were held up for a few more minutes while Kotance was brought before them and seated.

Sarfin stood behind his table and informed the group, “This is not a trial.  Your rights under the Great and fleet Laws will, nevertheless, be observed.  The purpose of this investigation is to find the proper individuals to charge on the counts brought by the Grandalor’s advocate.

“The first charge is silencing the fog drum to prevent the rescue of mariners believed to be in distress.  Who did that?”

Softly, Mord Halyn raised a hand and said, “I did.”

Kurin interjected, “With respect to you and the investigation conducted by the Longin, you did not.  I was there.  However there is another witness who, with your confession, nobody bothered to ask.  Degan was on the fog drum at the time.  Ask him who ordered him to stop.”

Sarfin had apprentice drummer Degan brought before the investigation.  The young man was clearly afraid.  Sarfin calmly reassured him, “No need for fear lad, you have done nothing wrong.  You may know who did though.  Think carefully and answer for me, who first ordered you to stop the fog drum when the Grandalor people were approaching?”

Hesitantly, Degan said, “It was First Officer Kotance, Sir.  After he silenced me, Captain Mord nodded his head.”

Kurin asked quietly, “Could Captain Mord have been nodding his head about something else?”

Degan seemed slightly surprised and said, “Could have been, just never thought of it that way.”

“Thank you, Degan, that matches my memory of the event, too,” Kurin said.

Mord Halyn shook his head, confused.  “I remember doing it.  I had not thought of it but I did follow First Officer Kotance’s lead. Still, as Captain, I am the one responsible for it.”

Kurin replied, “And First Officer Kotance bears no responsibility?  He knew your weakness and seized the opportunity to have you removed and take the Captaincy for himself.  You were the victim of a deliberate, if quickly conceived, mutinous plot.  On your own, you’d never have silenced that drum.”

Kotance started up angrily and Sarfin overrode him.  “Mister Kotance!  You are not in order!  Sit down, now!  Your chance to speak will come later, if it is needed.”  Grumbling, Kotance sat.

Sarfin consulted his notes and said, “The next charge is two counts of assault with intent to kill.  Are there witnesses or victims of this crime?”

Kurin said confidently, “There are two victims, your Honor, and if necessary, three witnesses from the Grandalor’s party.  The first victim was Gemma Colin Grandalor.  Gemma, would you come forward and tell the court what happened to you?”

Gemma came out of the crowd and hesitantly faced Sarfin.  “Don’t be afraid, young lady.  Just tell me what happened exactly as you remember it,” he said gently.

“We came up to the Longin in a fog bank.  There were three boats of us, and Captain Tanlin in hers.

Sarfin interrupted her statement to ask, “How did Tanlin become Captain?”

Gemma replied, “Barad stepped down voluntarily for the good of the ship. He hoped that fleet justice would fall more lightly on the rest of us if he were not leading us anymore.”

Sarfin looked intrigued by the answer but asked a different question.  “How did you find the Longin in the fog?”

Gemma looked surprised by the inquiry.  “We followed Captain Tanlin and she followed Skye.”

“Sky? I thought that you were in heavy fog.”

“Skye is the female Wide Wing, your Honor.  One of the birds that hit Captain Urson when she threatened Kurin.  Anyway, we all followed the bird to the Longin.  When they heard that we were from the Grandalor, the fog drum fell silent.  When we got to the side of the ship, near the bow, there was not so much as a rope for us.  We cast grapnel hooks with lines attached and went up the side.

“I hope to never see such a thing again.  Poor Lenai Halin got over the rail in front of him,” she paused and pointed at Mord Halyn, “and she got stabbed in the stomach with a knife so long that it stood out her back.  Helmsman Macoul tried to pull her back to get her into the boat and the same big knife cut his throat.  He fell over the rail and landed in one of the boats but he was already dead.  It was Darkistry who managed to get Lenai back over the side and I lowered her into a boat.

Darkistry got two big cuts while she was trying to save Lenai.  I was not quite above the rail because I was on the rope, coming back up to try and help her when the man I pointed out hit me on the head with the hilt of a Strong Skin tooth dagger.  That gave me both a concussion and a head wound.”

Kurin raised a hand and asked, “The man that you pointed out is Mord Halyn.  In your opinion, did he try to kill you or any other of the party?”

Gemma answered at once, “No, Ma’am.  In all the fight that I saw, he used a short Strong Skin tooth dagger but never stabbed or cut anybody.  If he’d wanted to kill me he could have easily turned his dagger point first.  He just wanted us off his ship.”

Sarfin looked curiously at Kurin.  He had learned that Kurin did not throw away either charges or witnesses lightly.  He sensed that something was up.  “Kurin, why are you doing this?  You appear to have eliminated one of your attempted murder charges.”

“No, your Honor, I have not.  However I have eliminated all charges of the crimes of murder and attempted murder against Mord Halyn Longin. Quite simply, he not only didn’t do them, he was framed so thoroughly that even he thought that he had committed the crimes.  If necessary, I have other witnesses from that party.  They all agree. The crimes were done but not by Mord Halyn.”

“I see,” said Sarfin, picking a parchment from the neatly organized piles in front of him and crossing out large sections.

“Now, Gemma, did you see who used that big knife?”

“Yes, your Honor, I was struck by the strangeness of it at the time.  The wounds and killing that I saw were all done by the big red haired man behind Mord.  Each time that Mord pushed somebody, the big man would reach around him and cut or stab just above Mord’s Knife hand so that the blood got all over Mord’s hand.”

Sarfin asked, “Gemma, would you point out the big red haired man if he is here?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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Return to the Master Story Index

-

They only had a few moments before their new enemies were on them, but it was just enough time for Gum to explain her plan to Gray and Tarragon. Upon hearing it, they instantly lit up with eager grins, keen to set it in motion. So long as the group stayed together, they should be able to get them all in one hit.

Tarragon snuck a glance out from behind the container, and when she saw the group approaching, used her pheromones to trick them into going straight past. She held up a few fingers to signal to the other two.

3…2…1…Now!

Gray was grinning as he charged out from behind the container, and the minute he set his eyes on the group, he knew they would be victorious. He planted his foot solid on the ground, swung his fist down to the concrete and let loose a yell that would make birds scatter from trees, as his shockwave erupted up through the air.  

Not a second later, Gum had been behind him, her spider web soundwaves blasting out along with it. The two combined forces swept right up to the group, catching them by surprise, and they barely had time to react before they were overwhelmed and completely wiped out.

“Excellent work, you two,” Tarragon praised as she joined them, looking around to make sure they were out of enemies for the time being.

It appeared that the area was silent save for the shooting in the distance from the ruckus that River and Nea were causing, so they took a moment’s pause to think through what to do next.

“That group came from the eastern side of the building, either they were holed around there waiting for us or there’s another entrance,” Gum said as Tarragon joined her and Gray.

Gray nodded, as they turned to start heading around the side of the main building, “There has to be plenty more ways to get in.”

Tarragon nodded in agreement, and as they set off, a thought that had been plaguing all of their minds since they entered the complex was brought to light.

“So who the hell are all these people and why are they helping Nihil?”

-

River skidded around the corner and in through the back door of the brick building, firing off more rounds of explosive dust at the group that were trying to flee in front of him. Neamhni had been following on foot behind him, and caught up moments later, shooting out the light fittings above them to slow the group down as glass showered down over them. A few shots were fired in their direction, and River easily slid out of the way while Neamhni ducked.

Thinking quickly, Nea noticed one of the beams in the rafters had come loose, and so he shot at it, as the dust exploded above them and the beam crashed down on top of some of the shooters. River had then fired several rounds of ice dust out at the group, until they’d all come to a complete halt.

The pair grinned at each other as they walked over, and a few curses were thrown in their direction.

“You son of a bitch!”

River shook his head, “My mother is a lovely woman, thank you.”

Neamhni stopped in front of one of them, who was currently lying underneath the beam, “Now would you care to enlighten us as to what the hell is going on here?”

Before the man could bother to spit a retort, there was a loud crack from above them. River and Neamhni looked up.

Apparently, the beam that Nea had shot down was the support beam for many others, and they were all about to crash down on top of them.

“Ah shit,” River said, just as two beams crashed down by the door. “There goes our way out.”

Thinking quickly, Neamhni turned and shot at the window that was several metres above them, “River!”

The man responded instantly, turning for the window, “Got it!”

They both began to run as more beams crashed down, and River’s weapon changed modes. He and Neamhni then grabbed hold of each other’s wrists, and River shot his harpoon up through the window.

As the second level of the building completely gave way, the two huntsmen were swinging out through the window, the harpoon having sunk into the neighboring building. They hung in the air for a moment, as Neamhni grumbled about not getting any answers, before River let them down, and they landed safely on the ground.

“Next time,” he said to the faunus, “Warn me before you bring the roof down on top of us, yeah?”

Neamhni chuckled and nodded, “Sounds fair. Let’s head for the main building.”

Having similar thoughts to their comrades, they didn’t want to head for the main entrance, so they tried heading around the western side of the building.

“Neamhni, River, you guys good? It sounded like half a building just collapsed,” Nigel’s voice came through the comms.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” River replied, “We’re heading for the main warehouse now, on the west side.”

Neamhni glanced over to the outskirts of the compound, “Jen, can you see any movement?”

“Looks pretty quiet to me,” she said, “Too quiet, actually.”  

“Think there’s an ambush waiting for us?” River asked, lifting Stail Abhainn to prepare.

Neamhni shared a look with him as Umbra changed modes, opening out to its final form. “Most likely.”

They both knew they were remembering the day back at warehouse seventeen. It wasn’t the most pleasant of memories, but this was different, and Neamhni could feel it in the adrenaline pumping through his veins. They was ready for whatever Nihil had waiting for them.  

“We have the whole team, this time,” Nea said, stopping for a moment. He could remember how guilty he’d felt last time, but it no longer bothered him. He’d had enough time to get over it and move forward. “And Gray, too.”

River nodded, and Neamhni knew that any previous doubts about the man were gone. Gray had proven many times now that he was worthy of their trust, and that wasn’t going to waiver now. “Yeah,” he agreed, lifting his hand. “Let’s do this.”

Neamhni smiled, and lifted his hand also, slapping palms with River and hanging on for a moment. “After you, buddy.”

River turned to keep walking. “Stay on my right?” he asked, more out of habit than anything else.