I do not own any of "The Walking Dead" or "Boondock Saints" media, merchandise, or any of its characters.
Only this fic is mine. ~ DandelionFunky
Chapter Two
Oh the Warden had a jail,
EIEIO,
And in that jail he had undead,
EIEIO.
With a-
bang bang
here
and a-
bang bang
there.
Here a-
bang
there a-
bang
Everywhere a-
bang bang.
Oh the Warden had a jail,
EIEIO!
Eunice, Smecker, and Dolly carved through the prison, firing their handguns through the hordes of the now undead staff. The prisoners -most of them- were intelligent enough to stay away from the cell bars, leaving them unharmed.
Not that the prisoners were going to be let out anytime soon. Even if possibly the detectives did have the keys, which they don't.
Duffy was commandeered to stay at the apartment in case the twins showed up, being the lucky-miracle-fuckers that they are.
"The new paint job was looking kind of nice, shame it's never going to be finished."
Smecker fired his pistol, headshotting a female corpse-still somehow carrying a spoon- that had gotten a bit too close for his liking.
Eunice eyed him and the wall blankly. She pulled the trigger on the nearest corpse, but her gun clicked; empty.
Before it could grab her, Dolly butted into the right shoulder of the shambler with his elbow.
It bumbled back from the impact, giving Eunice enough time to dive for the spoon and jab the handle into the eye of the offending corpse, permanently downing it.
Dolly rubbed his arm. "Does anyone know where the fuck their cell is?"
"Cell Block A."
"B," Smecker tossed a clip to her as he corrected her.
Eunice loaded the clip and scowled. "How 'bout I go to cell A, an' you go to cell B, and we'll see who the fuck is right?"
She turned on her heel, firing headshots at the corpses she passed on her way to Block A. Smecker paused for a moment, offhandedly headshotting another too-close-for-comfort-buddy-thank-you as he stared at her like the moron she was.
Smecker and Dolly followed close behind her.
In Cell Block A, the doors two of the cells were open. One to the right, the other on the far left wall, over by the door farthest from the entry the three detectives came in.
In front of the cell on the right, there was a corpse lying on its right side, once male, but now its stomach ripped open along with part of his pelvis. Half of its legs were eaten, femur bones laid bare on the concrete. Its head bashed open, tarnished copper blood oozing underneath it.
Cell block A had about thirteen cells, and all thirteen of the prisoners in this cell block were dead, snarling though the bars at the three detectives.
Three female walkers paraded the room, a fourth walker lapping up blood on the floor in the open cell to the right.
Eunice took out the three females, while Smecker did the same to the one in the cell.
Smecker examined the half-eaten corpse on the floor.
"Sing."
"What?" Dolly closed the door they entered the cell block in. Effectively shutting out more undead from entering the premises. He rubbed his arm.
"Sing."
Smecker's eyes darted to the arm Dolly was rubbing, but he made no comment.
"Or hum. 'La Boheme: Si, Mi chiamano Mimi', if you please."
"I'd rather get you a bagel," Dolly deadpanned.
Smecker shrugged, "Close enough."
Eunice rolled her eyes and blew upward toward her still raven bangs. She examined the cell.
"Judgin' from the shape a' the blunt trauma, the victim was killed by-"
"A bowl?" Smecker gestured to a pile of noodles on the floor, next to the puddle of blood.
"…Yes." Eunice sucked her cheeks in.
"Shouldn't we be figuring out whether this is actually the Saints' cell?"
"It fucking is alright."
"How the fuck do you know that?"
Smecker raised an eyebrow. "Doubting yourself, Betty?"
She mentally reminded herself to bite her tongue next time.
Smecker pointed down at a finger with the words TAS tattooed on it.
"We're fucked. One of them's dead. We're all fucked." Dolly ran a hand through his blonde hair as he paced.
Eunice didn't bother to look at him as she spoke. "Shut the fuck up, Dolly."
Smecker's brow furrowed, and he hunched over the body.
"He's lying on his intestines."
"Meaning?" Dolly said.
"Meaning he wasn't on his side when he died. The first time."
"N' his belt is undone behind him."
Smecker began to remove the shirt off the corpse. Eunice rolled her eyes, and Dolly recoiled from the intestines wriggling around the shirt as it was slid across its body.
Vertical lacerations marked the shoulders and aft of the torso.
"Looks like this unlucky fucker died right here. Pinned against the bars as he was chowed on."
"N' the twins were lucky fuckers." She pointed to the belt, partially pulled off.
"He musta had the keys."
Dolly paced into the adjacent open cell. He pointed to a pillow inside the cell, littered with wavy strands of black hair.
"Romeo's a lucky fucker, too."
Eunice loaded her gun. "Let's hope they stay that way."
Smecker placed a hand on the neck of the corpse.
"Still warm. They shouldn't be too far ahead."
He clicked the safety off his gun.
"Let's go."
Four Hours Earlier
Connor spat out the mouthful of broth, its contents spewing back into the metal bowl, when the screams and the pop-pop of guns filled the atmosphere. The sounds tinging the air with copper and red.
"What tha fuck is that?" Connor asked, disconcerted.
Mobsters were one thing. It was quite another if there were innocent folks getting slaughtered. And he seriously doubted there were an army of gangsters having a gun-picnic outside. He could see it now:
"Excuse me, Mister Yakavetta. Would you please pass me the AK-47?"
"Why yes, Mister Federal Officer. But only if you so kindly hand me that grenade."
"Sounds like a fuckin' warzone out there." Murphy poked his head outside of the metal beams, concernedly staring out into the hallway.
Connor bitchfaced. "Like anythin's goin' ta be out there, fucktard. Shit's outside."
Murphy glared back, "M' not a fucktard."
Murphy returned his eyes to the hall, and they widened. He frantically gestured for Connor, beckoning him. Connor toured over. Still mummified in the blankets, he wrapped his fingers around the bars of the cell.
The warden was running down the hallway toward them. Away from admirers one, two, and three.
"Do ye think they're cheating on us?" Connor laughed, Murphy joining him.
Their laughs were hushed when the admirers pinned the warden against the bars of their enclosure. The twins had scarcely removed themselves, stepping several feet backwards. Had they not retracted their fingers at that exact contingency, his back would've slammed against their hands.
The admirer's hands grasped at his neck, at his shoulders, at his clothes. Mandibles bored into his stomach. He howled, sliding down the billets and clawing at his attackers in agony.
He became still.
He was dead.
Yet the women wouldn't stop eating. They ripped out his intestines with their teeth. The tendons of his legs pulled away from the bones. His blood and flesh dribbled from their jaws and onto the fabric of their clothes. Pieces of flesh hooking themselves on the buttons of one of the admirer's shirts, where it wiggled from every slurp and grasp for more meat.
"Christ"
Connor emptied the contents of his stomach.
Number two looked up from her meal.
The twins froze.
She scanned the cell, but when she found nothing moving, she ignored their smell of life for the tasty man below her. He was alive enough. Even if she did have to share. Oh well.
A scream rang from down the hall. Oh hey. She wouldn't have to share if she got that. She slowly rose, and shambled through the hall to the other cellblock. Where she had heard and now smelled the flesh.
Fuck, the two bitches were following her.
Fuck yes, the two girls are followin' 'er, Conn thought.
"Murph, this guy's got tha keys."
"Fuckin' retarded. Ye want ta leave now?"
"Why not now? Chaos is tha perfect time ta get away. That's why tha bad guys always make a bomb with a timer in case they start losin'."
"So we're tha villains now?"
Connor bent over, tugging at the belt of the warden. Fortuitously, when the women tore through the warden's torso, they also gnawed through his belt to feast on his abdomen.
"Shut up n' 'elp meh get this fuckin' thing loose."
The Warden twitched.
"Alright, alright. I'll fuckin' 'elp ye."
"No wait-"
"Yer fuckin' blankets are gettin' in yer way."
Time slowed down.
Murphy.
Curling his left hand around one of the bars.
Murphy.
Reaching around the warden's waist with his right.
Murphy.
Grasping the keys.
Murphy.
The warden coming alive.
Murphy.
His teeth sinking into Murphy's hand.
Thanks for reading~! More in a bit. Stay tuned~! ~DandelionFunky
