Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Independence Day

"So, what do you think?"

Remember the saying if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all? That applied now. 

I continued to sit at the kitchen table massaging my temples, hoping, no, praying, someone else would take one for the proverbial team. 

"Well, uh..." Deadpool started than abruptly stopped.  It was a bad day when even your girlfriend couldn't come to your rescue.

"Come on, it's not that bad," Rick said defensively, searching the room for agreement he was unlikely to find.  He huffed like a teenage girl, hands on his hips, cop eyebrow aimed at yours truly.  "Alex, be honest, what do you think?"

Merle snorted in amusement, drawing the ire of the cop turned dictator turned military general.  My husband continued to bite his thumbnail at my side, but I noticed he scooted his chair back a few inches, not wanting to ruffle his friends' feathers.  I sighed, dropping my hands to the table.  This situation required tact, but I didn't have tact.  I had sarcasm.  So sarcasm would have to do.

"Outside of lading the Hindenburg in a lightning storm that's about the shitiest idea I've ever heard."

Rick froze, mouth hanging open, eyes bulging in clear outrage.  "It's not that bad!"

His tone was approaching a decibel even dogs found uncomfortable so I put a hand up, stopping him before he broke the sound barrier. 

"Your 'idea'..."  He bristled at my use of air quotes and I rolled my eyes.  "Is to roll up to The Sanctuary, ask politely if anyone would like to join our team then start shooting when they tell us to go to Hell."

"There's a little more to it than that."  Not really.  "What do you propose?"

Basically, anything other than that, but I was saved from replying by Daryl.  "Need to take care of some of their smaller outposts b'fore we do anythin'."

"How do we do that?" Maggie asked, a hand on her growing stomach. "We don't even know where they are."

"I know a few." 

All eyes strayed in my direction, but I left it at that. I wasn't in the mood to elaborate.

"What about Dwight?"  Glenn shrunk back in his chair when my eyes landed on him.  My husband discreetly elbowed me in the ribs, his meaning clear, give the guy a break.  "Just a suggestion."

"Stop with the murder face," Daryl murmured so only I could hear, tossing the wooden figurine on the table.  "I got an idea 'bout him."

When he didn't elaborate Rick put his palms flat on the table.  "After what happened, you think we can trust him?"

"After what happened" being The Saviors and Garbage Pail Kids joining forces and almost killing us.  Two-Face claimed to have no knowledge of those events, and while it was possible he was telling the truth, I'd much rather slit his throat and be done with it.  Unfortunately, not everyone shared my point of view.

"Only one way to find out."  Daryl's tone was casually, but his body was wound tight. He was firmly in the kill Two-Face camp.

Deadpool cleared her throat, "Taking out their outposts won't kill Negan.  They'll just replace the guards with someone else and we're right back where we started."

I stood, digging a piece of paper out of my back pocket and handing it to Rick.  "Start at the top and work your way down."  He nodded, surveying the list of outpost locations I remembered from my time in captivity before turning the paper over.  "Think you can find all that?"