'but girls contain multitudes. we are made up of so many odd parts. the reason that the monster in Frankenstein is so memorable is that, when it opens its mouth, out comes the voice of an alienated teenage girl.' heather o'neill.

season 1, episode 11
Judge, Jury, Executioner

Day 77

In Sadie's blackout, Isaac and the others returned. Only they returned with an unfamiliar person; an injured man, near Maggie's age, named Randall. A man who came from a group of men who weren't interested in a group of others, only if they had a "cooze" because they wanted a piece of ass.

In the days following, as Sadie recovered: Hershel fixed Randall's leg, Rick and Shane attempted to release him 18 miles out, and he returned to the shed. All because he knew Maggie and Hershel Greene. Not to mention, Beth attempted to end her life but ultimately decided she wanted to live. It was bound to happen, she guessed, good things don't last.

The group, excluding a few, had until sunset to think of what would happen to him. Then, they would discuss as a community, as if they all had the same ideas and the same wants. For once they would be making a decision together before acting upon what they thought was best.

Without needing to verbally agree, the trio knew what they wanted. And for once and only once, they agreed with Shane.

Their handful of nights in Atlanta taught them most of what people were like. Especially groups of men that spoke kind words with venom leaking from their tongues. The way their eyes would wander and linger as if their gaze could be hands. Either way it felt the same, hands or eyes. They would only ravage and discard what they no longer wanted. They would want the pretty girls and women to use them for their bodies simply because they could; they would either kill the men or let them watch as they took, then leave them to remember that day for the rest of their lives.

Sadie layered up that morning. The temperature had dropped, fall snuck closer and nipped at their skin. She was given Maggie's old leather jacket that came from an old boyfriend. She wore her own tainted ash-blue long-sleeve underneath and uncomfortable jeans that rested right below her stitches. The pain had lessened; she tossed and turned in her cot without regretting every life decision.

There were very few on the farm that didn't agree with murdering Randall. They were also the same people who hadn't fully seen the world for what it has become, and Dale.

To Sadie, it made sense why the old man was adamant about keeping him alive. Much like why Hershel had given Shane so many chances, they believed in the good in people. It was their flaw, but also kept them human.

Randall was only a few years older than him if he was in Maggie's graduating class. A few years more of experience and opportunities. Probably had a future ahead of him, or at least something going for him before the world fell. Maybe he was nothing. Maybe he still was. He kept himself around men that destroyed everything they touched, but so did the farm group.

Shane wasn't a good person, but he kept them safe with his knowledge and experience. Randall might have just wanted to be safe.

"He's like you guys, a kid," Dale defended, standing in front of the trio as they ate their lunch. "We were able to trust you, and you us. I don't see how it is any different."

Isaac licked his fingers then wiped them on his muddy jeans. "With all due respect sir, he's twenty-something years old in a group with guys that tried killing us just to get a taste my friends. When we met, we offered to help each other." He pushed himself off the back of the van, placing his plate onto one of the boxes. "I'm sure he was a good guy at some point but if Rick doesn't kill him tonight, I'll do it myself."

Sadie winced as she picked at her plate. Isaac walked away, ignoring Dale's disappointment. The two and Glenn were around each other, aiding in the repairs of the RV and the van. Sadie rarely saw them due to their differing morning routines, but Dale brought up things that other group members hadn't known. Once he believed in something, it was hard to get him to stop. Sadie could see that was the same with Dale.

"What about you two, huh? I get it, it's scary, I've seen things before this Hell; but he might not be like them. We can't decide that without knowing him," he continued, pushing for someone else to fight for that man's life. His gentle eyes had never been so serious. "You believe in God, Alyson, this isn't what you believe in, right?"

Sadie winced once more at his word choice. A part of Sadie wondered what he thought of Isaac after learning how quick he was to kill the two men in the bar, or what he would think of her if he learned what she did. He believed that all life was precious, but is every single one?

Alyson shrugged, biting into her sandwich. She had traded halves with Sadie prior to this; turkey for chicken. Sadie hadn't touched anything yet. She focused on the food rather than meeting Dale's eyes. Incredibly cowardly of her but she would admit that with her chest. "I think killin' is wrong...but necessary now." Dale opened his mouth to speak, but Alyson was quicker. "If we don't pull the gun first, we end up dead. I'd rather not die, Dale."

There was no use in fighting her. Dale switched his gaze to Sadie.

"I...don't know yet," she told truthfully. She remembered the men in Atlanta, but she also remembered how everyone perceived Alyson as a violent, unstable girl because of her brothers. No one gave her a chance until Sadie did. Dale pleaded with his words and eyes. Maybe she needed to see things differently. "I have til sunset. I'll give you my answer then."

The only way Sadie could make her own decision without anyone attempting to pursue her, was for her to face Randall herself.

Standing in the hayloft of the shed, she stuck to the shadows. The wood creaked under the weight of her foot, causing Randall to jump.

"Who's there?"

Sadie didn't make another sound. He looked young. Pale skin and brown hair and eyes. Fear lingered in his frantic movement, sweat glistened from the slivers of sunlight that cut through the wood. He was erratic, though it was probably from being strung up with a leg injury and the lack of food. His state wouldn't have helped his fate for the others, but Sadie knew how she looked and what she had done. No one would believe her if she told them the truth. No one certainly believed Randall because of how he looked.

She stepped forward, catching his attention with another creak. Resting her finger over her lips, she then climbed down, meeting him eye to eye. Up close he was dirty and skittish, a stray dog. A southern boy with foolish ideals. In another life, Sadie could have been him.

"What're you gonna do to me?" he asked in desperation, seeking someone to be his salvation.

Sadie didn't believe she could save anyone anymore, someone was bound to get hurt in the end.

She slowly reached into her pocket. Randall flinched, pulling away from her and further into the wood panels behind him. It didn't lengthen their distance. She pulled out the second half of her turkey sandwich, holding it out to him. "I'm sure you're hungry."

His face lit up, inching closer to Sadie. She held the snack to his face. He instantly engulfed it like a starving dog. Ripping at it with his teeth, not caring for pieces stuck in between crevasses he would never be able to reach—he would simply save it for his next starvation. "Thank you. You're one of the nice ones—pretty, too. Why are you with these guys? They try to kill each other and tryin' to kill me."

Sadie hadn't heard of anyone trying to kill each other. Then again, Rick came back with a few cuts and so did Shane. They were alone for hours while everyone was dealing with Beth's suicide attempt. "It's safe."

"I get it. The group I'm in isn't the best—I'm not like them, but I need to survive."

She nodded, stepping away to sit on a pale. He was easy to tell her things she didn't ask for. Maybe that's why his men were so willing to leave him behind. He was a liability. Maybe he was just like her; a wolf pretending to be a house dog. "If you could be one of us...would you?"

He rapidly nodded. "I'm a good shot. I'd protect you–all your people." His eyes scanned her with the eyes of a wolf who stumbled upon a sheep. Maybe he was like all the other men they came across. "You're too pretty to be around someone like me."

"Someone like you?" she inquired, tilting her head, and gazing up at him. He had a few inches of height against her, nothing drastic. She wasn't an idiot, though she didn't mind if people thought she was. It made getting information easier. Who knew playing dumb in high school to hear which of Isaac's girlfriends were cheating on him would benefit her now. Bat your eyes, twirl your hair, guys spilled easier than girls, but girls never danced around the truth. "I think you're a good person, Randall, just got stuck around the wrong crowd."

He smiled sheepishly, still concentrating on her rather than her words.

"Wrong people, wrong time I guess," she said softly with a smile. He nodded. "I think if you gave their location, it might help your case."

His smile faltered and his eyes dropped to the scattered hay. "I got family—my uncle, cousin. That bald guy will kill 'em."

He wasn't wrong to believe that. Sadie shook her head, defending her proposal, "We'll pick them out from the others; if you and your family aren't like them, why protect them? You wanna live, right?"

Before Sadie could get him to say anything, the door swung open. Blinding light poured in and strained Sadie's eyes. She couldn't see who it was. A callous hand yanked her onto her feet, saying, "What the hell you think you're doing, Rapunzel?"

Daryl slammed and locked the shed behind them, letting go of Sadie. She stumbled and regained her footing. Her hand first when to her stomach, knowing the earful she would get if she reopened her stitches. Luckily, Daryl wasn't as rough as she thought he would be.

Red flooded his face like the day he fought with Shane in front of the barn. More disappointment than anything, but that didn't make much sense for him. He seemed to lose all care for anyone after Sophia's reappearance. Then again, she noticed him around more often. "Making my decision."

"You've got a thick head or some'? He ain't your friend, he wants to use you, do cruel things to you," the redneck lectured as if she was a child, unaware of what most men wanted from her. He didn't shout, which was surprising. He maintained a level tone with her, strict and firm. He noticed her unchanged expression and furrowed his brows. "Go back to your friends. If I catch you back here, I'll chain you up in the house."

She hesitated at first, wanting to know what he was thinking. Daryl wasn't like Randall; he wasn't an open book, if anything he was like hieroglyphics. Expressions you could vividly see but never know what they truly meant.

Still, she walked away. Then paused and turned back. His eyes narrowed; lips ready to shoo her away. "How do you do it?"

"What're you yappin' about?"

"How do you pretend you don't care? You walk around all of us and give us dirty looks, then you suddenly act like you give a damn if he hurts me—which he's too dumb to try," she said, putting her hand on her knife holster.

He stared without a word, holding his crossbow strap with one hip higher than the other as he always did. "You think that little thing will work against everyone you come across? You don't know shit."

Daryl made his way passed the shed, probably to hunt before he heard Sadie and Randall.

He wasn't like Shane or Rick, or T-Dog, Glenn, Dale, or Hershel. He found a way to lock away how he actually felt in order to do what needed to be done. Sadie wanted that. She didn't need her grief stopping her, guilt ate at her mind and body like a parasite, but her body would never fight it off. It was her own doing after all. To rid the body of what it doesn't need, there must be an operation, a plan to separate the pieces.

Daryl knew how.

"So teach me," she blurted. And it worked, he stopped in his tracks and looked at her over his shoulder. "This isn't gonna last, you know that. I don't want to go back to hiding behind Isaac and Alyson whenever shit happens. Teach me and no one will ever get me."

For a moment, Sadie thought she just made a fool of herself. Then, she realized it didn't matter. Throwing knives at haybales wouldn't protect her from anything in the end. No one played by the same rules, or even any rules. If she wanted to make sure no one could ever hurt her and her own, she needed to be taught by someone who never got hurt, physically, mentally, or emotionally.

"When this shit— "he pointed at the shed— "is dealt with."

Daryl walked away without another word, and Sadie stood satisfied.

She didn't need Randall to prove anything. Sure, his answer could have pursued her, but his actions spoke louder. Besides, she had known her decision since the moment it was posed to them.

So, they gathered in the Greene's living room as some sort of conclave that could come together and unanimously agree on Randall's fate. Uncertainty filled the faces of the majority, while others appeared confident in their decision. A handful didn't wish to vote, finding it the easy way out.

"Why don't you three hangout with Bethy and Jimmy upstairs?" Hershel suggested as the trio entered the living space. Wary eyes floated around. No one had established any ground rules on who could vote. Automatically, Carl was out due to his age. Beth was still recovering and Jimmy didn't want to vote.

Isaac shook his head, taking a stand beside the red couch. "If we wanna vote, we can vote, right, Rick?"

Switching his gaze from Hershel to Isaac's unbothered exterior, he nodded. "They have as much as a say as any of us."

Sadie sat on the floor, next to Alyson's legs. She had attempted to get Sadie to share the spot, but she declined, finding the floor to be better.

Staring up at the adults, trying to decipher their thoughts. The air in the room stiffened before anyone began to speak. Starting off with Carl's engrossment of Randall and not wanting to not be in the room, it was an awfully bad beginning to a complete group. Shane and Andrea found him in the same position Sadie was in, only Shane and Andrea weren't as nice about it as Daryl was.

Which was odd to say: Daryl being nice.

His eyes flickered to the girl on the floor every-so-often. She remembered the early mornings, before the car accident and her attempts to get back to where she was after, practicing with hay bales with him in the distance. He kept away from the group after Sophia, but he was never not watching them. He must have been planning on leaving, it was a thought that often came up whenever she thought of him. For some reason it was more often than she realized. He was one of the good ones, one that she didn't need to interrogate to come to that conclusion. She never purposely chose to practice near him, he would just appear. One time, she pulled back to hard, nearly ripping her stitches. He ran to her, checked her wound, then told her, "Don't be a dumbass." And left.

She really hoped he wasn't lying to her about teaching her. This was probably the first time she wanted to learn from someone. She always relied on herself to figure it out like with gymnastics or blew it off like with school.

"So how do we do this?" Glenn inquired for the group.

"Does it have to be unanimous?" Andrea followed. Rick hadn't implemented guidelines or rules to this democracy before agreeing to Dale.

"What 'bout majority rules?" Lori suggested.

Rick wiped his face, stepping forward into the center of the room and behind the red couch. "Let's just see where everybody stands."

"Yeah, well, where I sit, there's only one way to go forward," Shane spoke out.

"Killin' him, right?" Dale verbalized what Shane for some reason couldn't. "I mean, why even bother taking a vote? It's clear where the winds blowin'."

Sadie kept her mouth shut and let the other say their piece. She couldn't help but think that Dale wanted this despite knowing the outcome. He begged for it, yet as he stood in the room, he realized there was no chance.

Rick leaned over the red couch and next to Alyson. "We'll if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know."

"Maybe just me and Glenn," Dale spoke for the two. "Maybe even Sadie."

The girl stared ahead, seeing Randall in the burnt logs that rested in the fireplace. His face bruised and blood dry all from Daryl in the early morning. No one offered him humanity; no one offered him a chance.

Was there a reason too?

Neither Glenn nor Sadie spoke up at first. Silence was confirmation before Glenn finally said something.

"Look, I think you're pretty much right about everything all the time—"

"They've got you scared!"

"He's not one of us!" Glenn countered. "And we've lost too many people already."

Losing swiftly, Dale looked down at Sadie. cake your choice yet?"

He spoke harsher than Daryl did at the shed. Seeing the man who saw humanity in spite of his years to prove otherwise, filled with such disappointment made Sadie flinch.

"Don't dog her," Daryl said for some reason.

Dale spoke his head, pointing his attention to Maggie, who offered another option.

"Couldn't we continue keeping him a prisoner?"

"Just another mouth to feed," Daryl countered.

"It may be a lean winter," Hershel pointed out.

"We can ration better," Lori suggested.

Dale continued to fight for Randall. "He could be an asset. Give him a chance to prove himself."

"Put him to work?" Glenn asked.

Rick shook his head. "We're not letting him walk around."

"Put an escort on him," Maggie suggested.

"And who wants to volunteer for that duty?" Shane pointed out.

Dale offered.

Rick countered it all, being one of four people who saw what Randall's people were like.

"Then what?" Alyson spoke out. "Wait for him to tell his people when we're weak and ruin us? I'd sleep better knowing he was dead than anything else."

"We can't exactly put chains around his ankles and sentence him to hard work," Andrea reminded.

"Look, the kid's right," Shane said, pointing to Alyson.

"So the answers to kill him to prevent a crime that he may never even attempt?" Dale restated to tell people the truth. "If we do that, we're saying there is no hope, no rule of law is dead, there is no civilization."

"Oh, my god," Shane spoke out into his palm.

"Could you drive him further out? Leave him like you planned?" Hershel offered.

Reminded of the last time, Lori spoke, "You barely came back this time. There's walkers, you could break down, get lost."

"Get ambushed," Daryl added.

"We should not put our own people at risk," Glenn said, wanting that to be a rule.

"But we're already at risk," Isaac reminded.

"If you go through with it," Patricia spoke up, "how would you do it? Would he suffer?"

There were hundreds of ways to kill a man. More ways if you cared less about the impact it would have on others. They needed it to be quick and easy, unheard by those who didn't want to see it but allow them to confirm he was dealt with.

"We could hang him, right? Just snap his neck," Shane said, describing the act as if it were simple.

"I thought about that," Rick responded. "Shooting may be more humane."

"Waste of a bullet," Isaac said. "It could work as long as it's in the barn. No echo."

"And what about the body?" T-Dog questioned. "Do we bury him?"

"Burn him," Isaac answered.

"Hold on, hold on," Dale intervened. "You're talking about this like it's already decided."

"Isn't it?" Sadie finally spoke up. She believed Randall could possibly be someone who was just seeking asylum with a group that proved to hold themselves up well, but in the long run that didn't matter. They didn't have the resources or the fighters if he ever betrayed them and brought his men back, more men and weapons than they could think of. It wasn't worth it. "You're the only one who's fighting for him, Dale."

Daryl nodded. "You've been talkin' all day, going around in circles. You just wanna go around in circles again?"

"This is a young man's life, and it is worth more than a five-minute conversation!" No one spoke. "Is this what it's come to? We kill someone because we can't decide what else to do with him. You saved him and now look at us. He's been tortured. He's gonna be executed."

As Dale spoke, Sadie noticed Isaac growing tense. He tapped his foot, leaning against the couch only to push himself off and squeeze his hand with the other.

"How are we any better than those people that we're so afraid of?"

"We all know what needs to be done," Shane spoke out after a suffocating silence.

"No, Dale is right," Rick deflected. "We can't leave any stone unturned here. We have a responsibility—"

"So what's the other solution?" Andrea asked their leader.

"Let Rick finish," Lori argued.

Everyone began speaking over each other, wanting this to end. But it would never end. They would come across another Randall, or someone veer from commands again. This would happen over and over again, and there wasn't long until a cold, starving winter came around with a baby on the way.

"Stop it. Just stop it," Carol interjected. "I'm sick of everybody arguing and fighting. I didn't ask for this. You can't ask us to decide something like this. Please, decide—either of you, both of you—but leave me out."

"Not speaking out or killing him yourself, there's no difference," Dale told Carol and everyone else, forcing guilt into their throats for them to attempt to digest for years to come.

"All right, that's enough," Rick said, stopping it all. "Anybody who wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance."

No one spoke up. They had agreed to some extent that Randall should die today.

"You once said that we don't kill the living," Dale recalled.

Rick stepped forward. "Well, that was before the livin' tried to kill us."

"But don't you see? If we do this, the people that we were—the world that we knew is dead. And this new world is ugly. It's...harsh. It's survival of the fittest. And that's a world I don't wanna live in and I don't believe that any of you do. I can't. Please. Let's just do what's right."

Silence ensued.

"Isn't there anybody else who's gonna stand with me?"

After some beats of silence, Andrea spoke, "He's right. We should try to find another way."

"Anybody else?"

Gazing upon her hand, covered in blood she could never scrub off, Sadie cleared her throat; but by then it was too late. The decision was made, Randall would die by nightfall. Sadie would add another tally next to Alaric for the people she had killed—it may not be by her hands, but she chose this. She wanted it.

The only issue was when the sky darkened, no stars in the sky due to the clouds and the nearing full moon hidden as well, and four men had entered the barn only to come right back out with Carl as well. Screams filled the foggy farmland from a man who still believed in humanity. Who knew how loud that gentle man could become? Who knew how much blood did he carried inside of him? How organs looked inside a body that had lived and learned, and would have given any of those organs now on display under the night sky to anyone who needed them?

The blood on her hands was real, and it stained scarlet onto her clothing. It soaked the earth as it did her body. Her attempts to stop the bleeding with her own clothes were futile as Hershel put it. Dale wouldn't make it no matter what.

Dale's eyes were as wide as the moon, saucers in the night. He pleaded and begged all day for the life of another only to lose his life at night to the dead, which was their real enemy, not the living. Yet, being the best of them, he would die.

Forgetting that blood caked her hands, Sadie held her face as she cried for the first time in days. She cried for the man that suffered next to her; cried for the life that fought for others; cried knowing this would never end. How easy it was to die in this world, they were doomed. Fighting each other and themselves, fearing the next person they come across.

That night Sadie had marked another tally on her list. A kill she never meant to commit but happened regardless. Two people had died because of Sadie. Dale died because she didn't fight for Randall to live, because she had long forgotten what true humanity was like.

Now there was no one left to show her again.

this chapter annoyed me bc i hate how the dialogue appears, just so repetitive in terms of the dialogue tags but it is what it is. Dale is dead, rip to the last piece of light. there are two more chapters before we enter act 2, the prison era, and i cannot wait for you guys to read what i have planned.

anyways, tell me what you think, thoughts, theories, ideas, and/or criticism!

I hope you enjoyed reading

until next time <3