Daddy's Little Girl

Back for Dougherty - 11

Reginald’s P.O.V 

I head back to my tent and change, change back into my uniform. I give myself a quick look over before heading out, as I do, I spot Derrick coming over my way. 

“So that's it, huh? You're just gonna walk off? Just to hell with everybody else?” He calls out, beginning to irks me. 

“I'm not saying to hell with anybody. Not you, Derrick; Irene least of all.” I explain shortly before turning on my heel and walking off. 

“Tell her that.” Derrick yells out. I turn around and let out a huff of air.  

“She knows.” Always been a bit too invested in our marriage... 

“Well, look, I-I don't, okay, Reg? So, could you just… Could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why? Why, would you risk your life for a douchebag like Earle Dougherty?” He questions, following me. I spot Kathryne and her father, Deacon, waiting for me over by the cube truck.   

“Better watch your words there.” She warns Derrick in a thick accent. 

“No, I did. Douchebag's what I meant.” He butts in, holding eye-contact her. 

“Earle Dougherty. The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst.” He says quietly looking at me. 

“What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me.” I state, “I can't let a man die of thirst, me. Thirst and exposure.” I don’t know who would, especially the way the world is goin’ now. That’s just evil. “We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being.” I explain as I walkway. 

“So... You, Deacon, and-and that girl, that's your big plan, huh?” Irene questions, coming out of the campsite. I turn and look at David with my eyebrows raised. Giving him the, ‘you know what’s comin’ look. 

“Oh, come on!” He exclaims, looking slightly pissed. 

“You know the way. You've been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself.” I quote him. He gives me a look like he’s telling me to f**k off as he takes his hat off, and runs his hands through his hair. “It's not fair of me to ask I know that, believe me, I know, but I'd feel a hell of a lot better with you along. I know she would too.” I say as I nod over to Irene. 

“That's just great. Now you're gonna risk three men and a girl, huh?” Derrick challenges. 

“Four.” Tre speaks up. 

“My day just gets better and better, don't it?” Deacon mutter loud enough for us all to hear. Kathryne nudges him roughly in the stomach, whispering harshly into his ear and he leans over. Two peas in a pod is what they are.    

“You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?” Tre says to him.  

“Why you?” Deacon asks, receiving another nudge from his daughter.  

“You wouldn't even begin to understand,” Tre says, guilt all over his face. “You don't speak my language.” 

“That's five.” Says Roy. 

“It's not just five. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Reg.” Derrick counters, trying to play the guilt trip on me. Too little too late for that one, that game started when I handcuffed a man to a roof.  

“Come on, you saw that Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They’ve come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here! We need 'em to protect camp!” Derick declares, raising his voice with every step he takes towards me.  

“It seems to me what you really need most here… are more guns.” I state looking around. It’s a good thing I dropped that whole bag of guns back at the tank.  

“Right, the guns.” David snaps excitedly.  

“Wait? What guns?” Derrick questions sounding confused, as he looks back and forth between the two of us.   

“Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when me and Kathryne got swarmed.” I explain gesturing to her. “It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up.” I say turning back to Derrick.  

“Ammo?” He asks curiously. 

“700 rounds, assorted.” I shrug. Derrick looks at the ground; digging his sole into the dirt. His nervous habit. 

“You went through Hell to find us,” Irene speaks up, stepping closer to the two of us, Clyde standing behind her. “You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave us?” She asks getting worked up, tears brimming in her eyes.  

“Dad, I don't want you to go.” Clyde says. I love you both, but you don’t understand how I would feel knowing a man died because of my actions. I think looking at both of them. 

“To hell with the guns.” Irene says. “Derrick is right! Earle Dougherty?! He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in.” She exclaims. I walk over to her. Irene, it’s just like old times, you never understand why I do somethings, we get in a fight and you hate me. “Tell me. Make me understand!” She begins crying hysterically.  

“I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy.” George and Dwight. “Irene, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all.” I unravel, pulling her into my arms as I wipe her tears. “They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him.” 

“What's stopping you?” Derrick cuts me off. 

“The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped,” I tell them. “He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer.” She looks down. 

“These are our walkies?” Derrick asks. 

“Yeah.” I say receiving a look from Irene.  

“So use the C.B,” Trinity suggests. “What's wrong with that?” She challenges. 

“The C.B.'s fine.” Derrick says, “It's the walkies that suck crap. Date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth. Not even the scanners in our cars.” 

“I need that bag.” I tell Irene desperately. She gives me that look, that same doe-eyed look she always gives me when she doesn’t like what I’m saying. I release her, and look back towards my son, standing before him. “Okay?” I ask him. He looks at his mother then back at me before he nods his head in approval. “All right.” I say and put my hand on his shoulder and giving him a reassuring squeeze.  

*** 

As we get the supplies ready to go back to the city, I find Roy, who supposedly owns bolt cutters. Another item we’ll need in the recovery of Earle Dougherty. 

“Rumor is you have bolt cutters?” I ask as I approach him by the R.V. 

“Maybe.” 

“Yeah, we get to that roof, though; we'll need to cut that chain and the handcuffs.” Tre says from beside me. 

“I never like lending tools...” Roy draws out, “The last time I did. And yes, I am talking about you.” He says pointing at Tre. “Let's just say, your bag of guns wasn't the only bag that was dropped. My tools got left behind with Earle.” 

“We'll bring your tools back too,” I assure him. “Think of the bolt cutters as, as an investment.” 

“Sounds like more of a gamble.” He mumbles while walking to his toolbox and taking out his bolt cutter. 

“What do I get in return?” He asks quickly, bolt cutters in hand hesitant to hand them over.  

“What do you want?” I ask, not knowing what the answer could be. 

“How about one of those guns you bring back? My pick.” He inquires, c*****g a brow. 

“Done.” Jim clears his throat from somewhere behind the RV before stepping out and speaking.  

“Um Roy, let's ah, sweeten the deal a bit. Now, that cube-van of yours…” He trails off, scratches his chin as he stares hungrily at it.  

“What about it?” I ask, not liking where this is headed.  

“The R.V.'s radiator hose is shot... That's a problem if we need to get somewhere and if we wanna get very far. And the hose on that van is just about a perfect match. Well, enough that I can make it fit.” He explains, he explains in sweet and simple sentences. 

“I'll tell you what,” I say, fixing my posture. “We get back, you can strip that van down to the bare metal.” I say with a small smirk as Roy hands Tre the bolt cutters. “Pleasure doin’ business.” I nod as someone honks a horn.  

“Come on, let's go!” Deacon shouts, sticking his head out the back of the van. 

“Hey, Reginald, got any rounds in the python?” Derrick asks, following me to the back of the van. Loading his own bag in the back. 

“No.” I smile, sighing sadly.  

“Last time we were on the gun range, I'm sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours.” Derrick jokes reaching almost elbow deep into his duffle. 

“You, and that bag like the bottom of an old lady's purse.” I joke, both of us chuckling for a moment.  

“I hate that you're doing this, man.” He announces after, the atmosphere dropping almost instantly. “I think, that it's foolish and reckless. But if you're gonna go, you're taking bullets.” He explains, finally pulling something out of his damn bag.  

“I'm not sure I'd want to fire a shot in the city, not after what happened last time...” And what a shitstorm that was. 

“That's up to you...” He shrugs, spills five lone bullets into my palm. “Well... Five men, five rounds. What are the odds, huh?” He hums before continuing. “Well, let's just hope that-let's just hope five is your lucky number, okay?”  

“Thank you.” I say, giving him a pat on the shoulder. 

“All right.” He smirks, and I leave him at that. I walk over to the passenger side of the truck, open the door and climb in beside David and Kathryne. I pull out my gun and load the bullets into the clip. The back hatch of the cube van closes with Tre and Deacon inside, and we take off. It’s quiet for most of the ride. I find myself mimicking Kathryne as I admire the landscape. Deacon clears his throat from the back, grabbing all of our attention.   

“Better be ok.” He warns from the back of the van. “It's my own flesh an…”  

“I told you.” Tre cuts him off, sitting closer to the partition door. “The geeks can't get at him. The only thing is gonna get through that door is us.” He explains, snipping the bolt cutters a few times before David pulls us to a stop, parking the truck, and cutting the engine.  

“We'll walk from here.” He states as the rest of us exit the vehicle. David waits for us all the collect ourselves before he takes off down the train tracks opposite of us. We head down for a mile or so before the building comes into view. Let’s hope entering Atlanta the second time will be a hell of a lot better than the first.