Deux smiled and gestured expressively at the crowd. “Friends, countrymen, fellow punk rockers and sons of bitches, I just want to say, that exiling Donovan would be the dumbest fucking thing to ever happen in the history of Pott’s.” He lowered his voice a bit and leaned forward, still speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, “Let me let you in on some little secrets about his main accusers over there.” He pointed to Sampson and Mary with his thumb. “They’re a cannibal cult that enslaved humans and deadmen. Forced them to work themselves to death, and held them in check with religion and fear. The Honored Dead know this, of course, but aren’t allowed to tell you because of their traditions. They can’t testify, per rules some dickhead wrote decades ago, so I’m letting you know for them. Eden was an evil place, and Donovan did the world a favor by burning it the fuck to the ground.”

I saw a flicker of movement from Mary and Sampson, and turned quickly to them, but all she was doing was glaring with sightless eyes while Sampson muttered under his breath.

“Even aside from all that shit,” continued Deux, his smile fading slightly and his tone turning serious. “Donovan deserves to be here. I remember when he first came, he was already a teenager. No one gave him the time of day, but he still showed up, did everything he could to become an undertaker. Even after he left us, anytime he got any new information, scouted a new deadzone, mapped a new settlement, he’d tell us whatever he found. The moment he had the strength to help Pott’s, to help Deadmen, he used it. In spite of many people not making him welcome, he has done everything in his power to make things better for Pott’s. There have been missteps, but I know that they were only ever made with the best of intentions. THAT’S why this line behind me is still so long, and THAT’S why he doesn’t deserve this shit.” He paused, and I realized that for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t smiling. He corrected that quickly though, as he looked around the room one more time. “All that isn’t mentioning, of course, that Radiation Revolution Radio, the triple RRRRRRRRRRR, wouldn’t exist without his help, and I know for a fact all of you are listeners.”

That generated some light laughter, and one teenage deadman in a black shirt yelling out hell yeah.

Deux held up a fist in that kid's direction. “Alright, I’ve said my piece. I need to get back to the station before my playlist runs out.” He looked at me and offered a full faced smile. “Visit me after this shit is over. I’ll even let you pick a song to play.”

With that he turned around with a flourish of his undertaker robe, and walked back out the door that he came through. I wasn’t really sure if he’d hurt or helped considering Solomon and Jim, while staying quiet, were now nearly frothing at the mouth, but I appreciated his support either way, and found myself smiling back at him at his goodbye.

After he was done speaking, the Deadman I couldn’t identify was next. I’d never met him, but he’d lived in Boon. When I’d briefly visited and cleared out the raid on his home, he decided to move to Pott’s, and was training to be an undertaker. Next was the lover of one of Butcher Pete’s victims, who spoke about how much she’d appreciated the justice I’d been able to dole out to him, and hadn’t been able to sleep soundly until she’d heard he’d died. Then was the one of the Deadmen I’d protected when our ambush was itself ambushed outside of Medina. He credited me with saving his life by giving me his friend’s body to carry back to Pott’s. Many spoke, some who credited me helping them directly, and some indirectly, but with each speaker I felt some measure of gratitude, but also some discomfort. I didn’t feel I deserved their kind words, or their pride in me. In spite of all of the kind words, I could only think of the woman who’d spoken against me. Scarred, and one armed, who seemed to have every reason to hate me and what I’d caused her. The praises I received didn’t absolve me of the damnation she placed at my feet. I knew that, in my heart of hearts.

Even as my thoughts raced and anxiety built, I noticed Mary acting strangely. She was staring at what to me looked like a random portion of wall. The glow behind her blindfold seemed to still be building, and I could smell fear on her. Her breathing had substantially quickened as well, her body was trembling. I was surprised that the testimony was having such a strong impact on her. She was my enemy, but she’d seemed more solid before than she was now. She was ruled by fear without the First it would seem.

The last of those speaking in my defense finished talking. Julian waited a few moments, then stood, his white robes ruffling. “Is there anyone else who would speak in Donovan’s defense?” he asked.

Nico walked through the door at that moment. Her timing was, as always, calculated for maximum effect. It was typically something that she did ambushing raiders or Remnants, but in this case she’d applied the logic to the Honored Dead. She moved between myself and the honored dead, and stood there. I noticed then that she was wearing a full pack, and armed with all of the weapons I’d seen her with in the past. She took a moment to stare down each member of the Honored Dead, then spoke a single sentence.

“If he’s gone, then so am I.”

With that, she moved to sit at the bench opposite of Mary and Sampson. Looking me in the eyes and giving me a firm nod, which I returned, though I felt enormous anxiety at the thought that my own exile could affect her.

Julian stood again. “I ask again. Is there anyone else who would speak in Donovan’s defense?”

This time the room was silent for a full minute, aside from hushed conversations being had by those who were there to observe.

Julian nodded. “In that case, the Honored Dead will now convene for one hour. We shall weigh what has been said here, and decide Donovan’s fate based on the will of Pott’s.” He bowed his head for a moment. “We shall move to our private meeting chamb-”

Mary very suddenly stood and screamed at the top of her lungs. Clutching the sides of her head and ripping the blindfold from her face.

Everyone in the room flinched as they reacted to the sudden noise, some of them ducking, others reaching for weapons.

I just stared at Mary. Her eyes were still damaged where I’d sliced across them. It seemed her advanced healing hadn’t been able to restore them to full function. They were still orbs of electric green, but now they were interspersed with cracks, reminding me of broken glass.

Sampson grabbed her, clearly gripped in panic himself, and she began to scream again, this time managing a few words.

“It’s here! It followed us!” I saw tears of blood stream down her face. “I thought we’d escaped.” she collapsed into Sampson’s arms. “The beast, the snake in our garden, the bane of Eden has come to claim the last of what remains!”

Her eyes were still focused on the same set point they had been for part of the proceedings. I turned my eyes to it too, orienting myself. She was looking directly in the direction of the Cut.

I turned toward the door, sensing someone approaching. A young deadwoman in black, a cerberus strung across her back and fear in her eyes pushed through the crowd and into the chambers, making a beeline for the Honored Dead. “A-” She stopped to catch her breath and calm herself enough to speak, her black eyes wide and wild. “A creature from the cut-” She pointed wildly to the door. “It’s coming.”

Solomon stood. “So? We have patrols, we have guards, we’re on high alert from the Remnant’s attack. Can’t whose available deal with it?”

The woman shook her head. “You don’t understand. The creature, it’s enormous! We’re firing on it, but it isn’t slowing down and it’s…” she shook her head. “It’s glowing.”