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Eve Hewing had been at the Civic Republic for six months when Rick Grimes cut off his own hand one night while out on a field assignment.
It was the most exciting thing that had happened in her time as a consignee so far. From how the sordid tale was repeated ad nauseum amongst the other consignees, it might have been the most exciting thing any consignee had experienced.
There was a dull monotony to life as a consignee. At first that was a relief — who could complain about too much peace after surviving out there for so long, always on alert from grunts, or worse, fellow survivors. But living through the end of the world had taught Eve that people were endlessly adaptable, and after about a month of the same routine, she was ready for any deviation from the norm.
That was why Rick Grimes fascinated her so much. He didn’t fit neatly into a box like everything else at the well-oiled machinery of the Civic Republic. He kept to himself; even when interacting with others, he never seemed wholly present. His face was permanently set in a mask that was equal parts misery and determination. There was a story there, but who amongst the survivors of this new and broken world didn’t have a story to tell?
No, it wasn’t Rick Grimes’ misery or isolation that made him such an object of curiosity. It wasn’t even his piercing blue eyes or ruggedly handsome looks, although they certainly didn’t hurt. It came down to this: nobody left the Civic Republic. More to the point, nobody was supposed to want to. That Consignee Grimes had attempted to escape multiple times was something Eve still couldn’t wrap her head around. His body bore the marks of each failure but that didn't slow him down. In a world full of loss, most people clung to the few good things they could find. What mad force drove Grimes to forsake it instead?
***
Eve was filled in on the lore of Rick Grimes pretty quickly upon arrival. It felt as much a part of the orientation schedule as learning how many days of training she would have (three) or what a furlough day was. Sun-mi, a whip-smart and chatty consignee who had been there two years at that point, took Eve under her wing, and Eve quickly learnt that Sun-mi was a fount of gossip. Being a consignee was not unlike being in high school; everybody was in each other’s business due to the enforced intimacy and mundane routine.
Eve and Sun-mi sat at a picnic table one day, nursing beers and watching a group of consignees playing poker at a table opposite. Esteban — a cheerful consignee who got along with everyone — had managed to draw Grimes into joining the game to Eve's surprise. It was the first time in her two weeks at the base that she'd seen him willingly engage with anyone.
“Okafor's got some kind of interest in Grimes,” Sun-mi divulged. Eve had yet to meet Lieutenant Colonel Okafor but she had gathered that he was a bigwig with the CRM (and that he had what Sun-mi liked to call a dreamy voice). The antics of a maladjusted consignee should have been beneath his notice. “He's always checking up on him. That's the only reason Grimes is still here, after all his escape attempts.”
“So what — they’d just kill him otherwise?”
Sun-mi shot Eve an unimpressed look. “Don't be naive Eve, you've been out there — you know what it's like. Secrecy above all else.”
That mantra had been drilled into Eve immediately upon arrival, and truly she understood the idea. One lesson that she had had to learn over and over again as she moved from haven to haven was that there were always vultures watching, ready to take any good thing you had left in this world and destroy it. That was how Eve found herself at the doorstep to the Civic Republic alone — without a single remnant of the fractured relationships she had developed in the decade since the world ended.
“No, I get it,” Eve said, watching Grimes draw a pile of chips to himself as the rest of the group groaned theatrically. There was a shadow of a smile on his face, his only concession to the bright atmosphere. “It's just a fucked up situation.”
“It's a fucked up world,” Sun-mi said, holding up her bottle in a mockery of a toast. “You know, Esteban's theory is that he has a wife on the outside, that that's who he's trying so hard to get back to, but I don't buy it.”
“Why not?” Something about that idea tickled the romantic in Eve, touching a part of her she had thought long gone.
“It's been years and he's a man. They’re not capable of that kind of loyalty.”
“Well that's bleak.”
“I reckon he's just got a few screws loose, and honestly, who can blame him?”
They watched Grimes stand up and leave, pressing a hand to Esteban’s shoulder in farewell. He looked up and caught Eve’s eye — she lowered her gaze immediately, shaken by the emptiness behind his eyes.
***
Eve stumbled over to the mess, bleary-eyed. She had been plagued by nightmares all night — hands both living and dead reaching out to grab her as she fought desperately to get away — and had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep in the early hours of the morning. Now breakfast was almost over and there was no way she was going to miss a meal. Not anymore. She had a hand on the door when someone reached out and grabbed her arm. She flinched, transported back to her twisted dreams, before looking up and seeing Esteban’s face, smiling apologetically at her.
“Sorry, sorry!” He whispered. “I just — can you please wait a second before going in?”
He gestured to where the door was slightly cracked and Eve peeked in, seeing that the room was empty save for Grimes, sat in his usual corner, and a pretty new redheaded consignee whose name she couldn’t remember, who was making her way over to him.
“Maria’s about to ask Grimes out,” Esteban said, “and I need to see how he reacts.”
Eve laughed softly. “What do you think he’s going to do, run screaming from the room?”
He snorted. “No, my man’s usually completely oblivious to the flirting. But this chick’s about to get brazen and I want to see how he deals.”
Eve was about to tell Esteban that he was overly invested in Grimes’ love life but her response was cut off as he clutched at her arm in excitement. “She’s doing it!”
Indeed, Maria had sat directly opposite Grimes in a spot most consignees considered strictly off limits. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear in a practised move that was lost on Grimes, who was staring down at his bowl of regulation oatmeal like it held the secrets of the universe.
She kept her voice low so they couldn’t make out her words, but they watched her expression fall as each overture she made was met with deadly silence. Eve’s eyebrows rose in shock as she watched Maria’s hand inch across the table towards Grimes’ hand. She had to give it to the girl, she had tenacity.
The second Maria’s hand made contact Grimes jumped to his feet, and Eve’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle her laugh. Clearly her joke about him fleeing the room wasn’t too far off the mark. From this angle, she could see the back of his neck and ears flushing red, though it wasn’t clear whether it was out of anger or embarrassment, He muttered something before walking off. Eve realised with a jolt that he was heading straight to where her and Esteban stood, shamelessly eavesdropping. They both took a few panicked steps back, leaning against the wall and trying to position themselves as though they’d been chatting there a while.
Grimes shot them a bemused look as he exited the room, clearly seeing through their transparent attempts at nonchalance, before shaking his head and wondering off.
Eve slapped Esteban on the arm. “Are you pleased with yourself?”
“Very,” he said, grinning widely. “I knew my man was gonna stand by his wife. That’s a real man right there!”
“Did he actually tell you he had a wife?”
Esteban rubbed the back of his neck. “Not in so many words but like, I see it. You know Grimes looks tough but he’s a softy deep down. Game recognises game and that man’s a loverboy through and through.”
Eve rolled her eyes. “Alright loverboy, you keep stalking Grimes. I’m gonna grab some food before we get kicked out of here.”
Gossiping about Grimes was all well and good but in this world, food always came first.
***
The arrival of a new consignee was always of interest, but the circumstances behind Dana Bethune’s appearance at the Civic Republic (and the involvement of one Sergeant Major Rick Grimes) made her an instant celebrity.
Though no longer a consignee, Grimes’ role with the CRM kept him on base, and his legendary status among the consignees remained intact. His kill record — achieved after losing a hand no less — had been the latest addition to his lore, now topped by him being the sole survivor of a helicopter crash.
“It’s a miracle he came back completely unharmed,” Eve said to Sun-mi as she spotted Grimes jogging with his team a couple of days later. She couldn't help but notice how nicely his black T-shirt hugged his biceps, moulding to his form. “He can’t afford to lose any more limbs.”
“Yeah, it's a damn shame about the arm,” Sun-mi drawled, “but he only needs one for what I'd like to do to him.”
“Sun-mi! The guy is clearly not well.” It had been years but Eve still couldn’t wrap her head around what drove a person to self-mutilate in such a way.
“That's half the appeal — I just know he'd get freaky!” Sun-mi giggled, delighting in the scandalised look on Eve’s face.
“Honestly, he's probably asexual — I mean I've never seen him so much as check another consignee out and you know this place is hornier than band camp.” There were only so many games of poker you could play as you whiled away a six year sentence after all.
“Don't even put that out there,” Sun-mi said, clutching a hand to her chest in faux outrage. “It would be such a tragic waste of those bedroom eyes. Anyway, have you not heard about him and Bethune?”
Sun-mi grinned at Eve's puzzled look, always excited to have fresh news to share.
“Well apparently, Bethune was spotted leaving one of the garages with a CRM soldier, clothes rumpled and with a shit eating smirk.”
“Bethune? She literally just got here.” Hook-ups happened quickly and frequently among the consignees but that had to be a new record.
“I know! But she does look like the type to go after what she wants.” Bethune had been on the base for less than 48 hours and it was already clear she was a cut above the average consignee.
“Wait, what's this got to do with Grimes? You don't really think he—”
“All I know is someone swears they saw the soldier's face for a second before they put their helmet on and the soldier had curly hair and a grey beard.”
Eve thought back to what she had seen of Bethune so far. She was an objectively beautiful woman, and carried herself with a confidence that no doubt drew men in. But the reality was, she’d only just arrived at the Civic Republic. Eve remembered the rush of emotions she had felt when she arrived; getting involved with someone was the last thing on her mind. And then there was the Grimes factor.
“That would be one fine couple, I can’t lie,” she said. “But Grimes sneaking off for a quickie? That just doesn't compute. Maybe he pulled her aside to say thank you. She saved his life, I’m sure he’s grateful.”
“I’ll tell you what he’s grateful for — that ass!” Sun-mi cackled and Eve couldn’t help but join in.
“And what, he thanked her with his dick?” Eve shook her head. “I'd believe that of a lot of those CRM bozos but not Grimes.” She had seen firsthand how Grimes dealt with people flirting with him, and it wasn't with clandestine trysts in military garages.
“He’s still a man.”
“Good thing Esteban isn’t here,” Eve mused. “He’d hate the idea of Grimes no longer being loyal to his wife.”
***
It was official. Dana Bethune was the most interesting consignee to arrive on the base since Rick Grimes.
The circumstances behind her appearance at the Civic Republic were meant to be confidential, so of course everyone at the base knew within the hour that she had saved Grimes’ life after his helicopter was shot down.
She kept to herself as she got settled in, which wasn't unusual. She didn't offer any information beyond her name or ask any questions, though her large eyes were constantly scanning the space, like a security guard clearing a room.
She was also easy on the eyes, which added to her immediate popularity. She even managed to make the bulky consignee uniform look good, as it emphasised her trim waist and toned figure. Between her good looks and alert demeanour, she was immediately deemed too intimidating to approach by most of the consignees.
The lucky ones who were assigned to work with her during her training became mini celebrities in their own right. Cleo Clifton's story of Bethune taking out a couple of non-kills at the culling wall was retold breathlessly, the details becoming exaggerated until it became Bethune single-handedly fighting eight grunts and killing one while its mouth was on Cleo's neck, ready to bite down.
Eve finally managed to find Cleo by herself a couple of days later and set out to get the full story. She sat down beside her and realised what had caught Cleo’s attention - across the room, Bethune was doing push-ups, her form immaculate as she extended a leg to either side.
Eve let out a whistle. “Where the hell did they find her?”
Cleo turned to her with a smile. “Right? She's amazing.” Cleo was starry eyed.
“Well of course you'd think that, she saved you from a herd of gruntslast I heard.”
“It was just two non-kills. But you should have seen her, it was like something out of a Bruce Lee movie. The officer’s were meant to deal with it but she just picked up her kill stick and took off one of their heads, cool as you like." Cleo mimed the action with her hands, voice reverent as she spoke about Bethune. "Then she told me to watch out — I hadn’t even realised there was one behind me — before woosh she threw the head hard enough to knock off the other one’s head. She’s a badass for sure.”
“Well it's made her a legend too. Not sure she appreciates the attention though.”
“You wanna know who else's attention she's caught?” Cleo said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Sergeant Major Grimes.”
Eve raised an eyebrow. This was the second time Grimes and Bethune had been linked together in less than a week. It was unheard of after years of Grimes ignoring the increasingly obvious attentions of the women on base.
“I'm serious. We got sent off for health checks afterwards and Grimes was standing by the wall by himself. He literally took his helmet off so he could stare at her more clearly, and when we went by, I saw him from the corner of an eye do a full 180 so he could watch her walk away.”
“Maybe he was just looking off into the distance” Eve offered, remembering how Grimes often sat or wandered around the base by himself, lost in his own world.
“Right where her rear end was? Nah, not that I blame the guy.” Cleo nodded at Bethune, who had moved on to sit-ups, seemingly oblivious to the attention on her.
“She seems pretty smart too,” Cleo added, “clearly got a little distrust of the Civic Republic which makes sense when you've been out there so long. I hope she'll be able to lower her guard soon.”
“Maybe a fling with Grimes will loosen her up,” Eve offered.
“I don't know if he could handle a night with her,” Cleo said. “Especially if he really hasn't gotten laid in like a decade.”
“In this world, there are worse ways to go,” Eve replied, and the two burst into laughter, leaning on each other and getting odd looks from other consignees. Dana Bethune continued to work out, either oblivious or uncaring of the excitement around her.
***
It was clear the Civic Republic had a strategy for who they brought back to become a consignee. Simply put, there were a lot of very small minded people Eve came across, those craving the respect they had had in their old lives, and looking for ways to regain control. As a consignee living at the whim of the CRM, opportunities to assert this were few and far between. For some, this frustration bred aggression, and it was often this type that were pulled into the Civic Republic Military once their time was up.
Grimes was a special case. He’d been recruited personally by Okafor, along with Thorne, and before completing his six years. He also didn’t throw his weight around; he came by the mantle of authority naturally. There had been some grumbling at the time of course, but it was hard to feel too jealous of a guy who had chopped off his own hand.
Consignee Bethune was a different story altogether. Word quickly got around that Thorne and Grimes had pulled her aside after she broke the kill record, only returning her to her room later that night. Next thing anyone knew, she was heading off base in CRM gear to do who knows what while the rest of the consignees were left to their usual duties. Needless to say, feathers were ruffled.
Eve was on a bus headed to the outskirts of the Civic Republic to clear a buildup of grunts, listening to some music on an iPod Nano she’d picked up in the city, when she heard raised voices from the row behind her, filtering in over the sounds of Sade. She paused her music, lowering an earbud to see what the fuss was about.
“It’s bullshit and you know it!” Eve recognised the voice of Brendan McGill, one of the more annoying consignees she had been forced to work alongside. He was always commenting on her work or offering unsolicited advice, taking on an imagined position of leadership that more often than not just delayed their duties.
She was about to restart her music when the next response piqued her interest.
“Bethune did break the kill record,” said Consignee Spencer Hastings, McGill’s erstwhile shadow, attempting to placate him. She knew his type too, the ones who clung to the loudest voice in a room, hoping for protection.
Eve perked up at the mention of Consignee Dana Bethune. The woman was fascinating, and almost as closed off as Grimes. She was eager to learn anything about the woman who wielded a kill stick like it was an extension of her body.
“That fucking record — it’s literally shooting fish in a barrel. I bet she was just doing it to show off for her boy Grimes.”
Eve swung around with a smirk to face the pair, leaning her arms on the back of her seat to look down on them. "Gentlemen." Hastings flushed red in mortification as he realised they had been overheard, unable to meet her eyes.
"Hewing." McGill looked up at her, wary. She was enjoying this, seeing him squirm, realising how his false bravado couldn't measure up to a true survivor like Bethune.
“Careful McGill," she said. "You’re sounding a little jealous.”
He scoffed. “Of Grimes? I mean yeah Bethune’s hot, I’m not blind, but even her fine ass isn’t worth putting up with that attitude. Her and Grimes deserve each other, thinking they’re so much better than us.”
Eve raised an eyebrow. “I actually meant you were jealous of Bethune, but interesting where your head’s at.”
McGill scowled. “Why, because she has Grimes panting after her and getting her special treatment? I can make it on merit alone, thank you, and without having to lie on my back to get there.”
Eve wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I know you don't really believe Bethune is doing anything she doesn't want to. And just ’cause Grimes is after her,” she conceded, unable to dismiss the frankly yearning way he stared at Bethune, “doesn't mean she's interested. You know she saved Clifton the other day. Word on the street is Beale's been asking questions about her.”
She saw she'd hit a nerve with that last line. General Major Beale was like the boogeyman around base. He didn't have anything to do with consignees but could sometimes be seen lurking around, watching them all with an inscrutable look. Somebody as insignificant as McGill had no chance of getting on his radar.
Deciding he'd taken up enough of her day, Eve shot McGill an overly sweet smile. “I'm sure Bethune and Grimes will enjoy the opportunity to get closer while they're off on their top secret assignment together.”
She slid back into her seat with a laugh, popping her earphones back in. Most days as a consignee were indistinguishable from each other but, she thought to herself as By Your Side began to play, she had a feeling today would be a good one.
***
When Eve arrived at the Civic Republic, she figured that was the last major upheaval in her life. She would do her six years, move into the city, get a new job and keep her head down. It might not be an exciting life, but she’d already had more than her fair share of excitement.
Then Dana Bethune — scratch that, Michonne Grimes — had come in and blown everything up in a matter of weeks. Only halfway through her allotted time, Eve was suddenly no longer a consignee, living in an apartment in the city she had spent years dreaming of, with no clue what came next.
At least there was one constant; her new home came with a familiar roommate as Sun-mi had happily agreed to share with her. It was through Sun-mi’s keen ear and skill for gossip that Eve got a sense of the feelings of the people in the city, cutting through the relentless positivity of the news cycle. For those in the city, whose lives had been so well-regulated for so long, the fear of what might shift next was overwhelming, even as people began cautiously considering what moving beyond the borders of the Civic Republic meant. The doors might now be wide open, but was there anything to be gained from walking through them?
Another constant was that, even here in the city, Rick Grimes was a legend. She still remembered the visceral shock she had felt seeing that first newspaper slapped down on the table by McGill during breakfast. It was 2 days after the attack at the Cascadia base they would later learn, where the entire CRM frontline corps and Major General Beale had been eliminated. That was the word the newspapers kept using, eliminated , like they were a virus or disease and not the very people charged with protecting the Civic Republic. But at that point, all the consignees had known was that the CRM soldiers on base were acting weird and there was a new tension in the air. They hadn’t expected answers, that wasn’t how the CRM operated, and certainly not the kind that the newspaper brought:
Portland Protectors: Sergeant Major Grimes, Wife Michonne Foil CRM Plot to Wipe Out City
Below the headline was a photograph, a black and white shot of Grimes, face grim and stitches on his temple, as he exited a building. But what drew the eye of everyone at the table was the woman beside him, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. It was undeniably Consignee Dana Bethune.
Since then, the news cycle had been dominated by the fallout of the collapse of the CRM and the changes to the Civic Republic. Grimes and his wife (and wasn’t that a weird sentence to say? Eve would have to give Esteban his dues next time she saw him) refused to speak to the press, but they were spotted regularly entering and leaving City Hall, where they were holed up with the government.
Eve and Sun-mi’s new apartment came fully equipped with a TV and each evening found them glued to the latest reports, as well as making a game of trying to fill in the blanks when it came to the relationship between Rick and Dana/Michonne.
“Though previously tightlipped, Sergeant Major Grimes did let slip today that he and his wife will be leaving the Civic Republic imminently to return to their community.”
The television cut to footage of Rick and Michonne Grimes leaving City Hall to the usual shouts from press and admirers. Though they kept moving, Rick appeared to be in a good move, his hand interlocked with his wife’s as he gave brief responses to their cries.
“We hope you’ll come back for a visit,” an older man called out from the crowd, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re true heroes.”
Rick paused, smiling down at Michonne as he squeezed her hand. “My wife’s the hero. She found me and saved me. “I'm just a guy who wants to get home to his family.” He rubbed his thumb across the ring on her finger.
Michonne smiled tenderly at him, the joy in her eyes completely transforming her usually stoic features.
Sun-mi shook her head in disbelief at the sight. “Can you believe this is the same guy who used to brood around base for years?”
“Rick Grimes, lovesick puppy,” Eve laughed. “Who would have thought?”
“He said family, you reckon that means they’ve got kids back home?”
“It would explain how desperate he was to get back.” Eve felt a pang through her heart at the thought — a father missing almost a decade of his children’s lives. How do you recover from that?
“It also explains how obsessed he was with Bethune immediately. Remind me to never get married until I find a guy who will still be in awe of me after a decade apart.”
“That might be hard to test,” Eve said. “But I do remember you saying there’s no way any man would be loyal that long.”
“I know!” Sun-mi groaned, burrowing her face in her hands. “I can’t believe these fools have me out here believing in love.”
Eve smiled at the thought. It was a pretty fucked up world they lived in, and she had no idea what to expect next, or whether the Civic Republic could remain safe without secrecy or the CRM frontliners to protect it. But knowing that even with everything they’d been through Rick and Michonne had managed to find each other again — well, it was hard not to feel a little hopeful after all.