If you'll notice, dear readers! This is no longer just the first half of chapter two- IT IS the FULL chapter! ENJOY! Comments are appreciated!
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He never told her he loved her. He said it once, but even then it was just a slip of the tongue. He wanted to tell her... God, he wished he was able to say it. He made a promise to himself to try and say it more, work himself into it, so it was second nature, so it wasn't so trivial or awkward anymore. Like he could say it just as easily as he breathed.
Lacey, I love you. I love you, Lace. Love you, baby. Darlin', I love you. Love you, princess. I love you. Love you. Love...
The night that Lacey, Sam and Rocket had left to retrieve Andrea, he even tried to practice it with Honey once he was off watch and the girl had decided to give him grief and stay awake when he could've caught a few hours of sleep. But even with her it was awkward, her keen little gaze focused on him unless she was pulling at the socks on her feet. They were some of Sophia's socks, way too large for her, and very puzzling and amusing to the babe as to why they were on her feet in the first place. She babbled quietly to him, as if she knew of his predicament and wanted to help him out. If she talked maybe it would ease his tension, loosen him up, let the words he found so damn hard to say flow easier. Her babble consisted of nonsense prattle and one of the only two words she knew- Daddy, and the few variations of the title. She was smart enough that when he'd ventured to say the statement he was so determined to say, starting with 'Lacey' and struggling the with the rest and ending in a disgruntled growl- Honey perked up and murmured, "Ma? Mmmama."
"Your mama will be back tomorrow, girly." he murmured softly, twisting and knotting a blade of grass between his fingers. He'd found the last of some flowers on some shrubs before the sun set, knitting them together into a tiny wreath he'd rested atop Honey's head before she tore it away to gaze at it in fascination.
The blade of grass had become fashioned into a sort of ring, feeling foolish already he tried the ring on for size, it barely made it past his knuckle. A ring. The ring.
The simple silver band was gone from his pocket now, like the heaviest burden in his pocket, an immeasurable weight, finally gone, finding a home on Lacey's finger. She wore his ring. She wore it as a symbol of his love and trust. He felt even more stupid when he had nothing to show as a symbol. Maybe Sam could sniff out another jewelry store and pick through the remains and find him something too. The idea was ludicrous, of course, but still. It was the little piece of normality they had now. Establishing partnership. Marriage...
Which was another reason why he had to get over his phobia of the 'L' word al-fucking-ready. If they were married he had to learn how to tell his wife he loved her, no hesistation, without question, positive.
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Morning came and they had to move out. There was no sign of them though. No sign of Lacey, Sam, Rocket- no sign of Andrea. Rick set a wary glance on the horizon, on the road where they hoped they would see the four making their way tiredly back to the camp... but he had stated the rules- told them how it would be... they had to move on, with or without them.
The worry was ever present, but when they didn't come back like promised- successful, triumphant- the twisting low in his gut became a little tighter. She always came back though, they always did. They were capable... So they moved on, minus two warrior women and a former police hound. But they would catch up. That's what Amy always mumbled to the kids, mumbled as she fought back tears, mumbled as she cried into Jo's chest. The fault was hers. That's what she would say. It was her sister they went after and now they were all gone.
A week passed and it was starting to set in. They weren't going to catch up. They weren't coming back. Winter was rolling in quickly. They wouldn't be able to survive, even if they are out there... They were gone. Lacey. Samantha. Rocket. Andrea... they were gone.
Shields were back up at full power. The only people Daryl would let them down for was Honey and Erin, sometimes Jo. The rest of the time, he was gruff and blunt... Though he was urged not to be, by himself and by Jo. He explained that Lacey wouldn't have wanted him to shut himself out from the group again, she'd want him to stay close, refrain from drifting away. They needed him way more than he needed them. But there was no way he'd leave the girls- his girls. They were all he had left of her. Lacey's orphans...
He never told her he loved her. Now that burden... that weighed much heavier in his mind than that ring ever did sitting in his pocket. He loved her and he never told her...
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There used to be a time when it didn't seem so bad. Compared to what they were dealing with now. Severed limbs, overrun safe havens, lost family members; they all seemed just like... just like bad dreams, a nightmare within their nightmare world where the dead rose and sought the flesh of the living. They were constantly on the move, never in one place for too long, and idea of vocally communicating was too risky- an ever present quiet surrounded them... Three women and one canine missing and presumed dead. Four children, one baby. Ten adults, one of whom was pregnant and growing closer and closer to her due date. There used to be a time where the fear was there, but they were still capable of a full nights sleep, able to obtain food, wash their clothes. There had been a time where they believed that one day it would all be over; it would all get cleaned up, and they could go home. That they would be saved. But now...Now, they had grown far wiser...No one was coming to save them.
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They communicated through actions, with their eyes, hardly ever with words. The quieter they were, the longer they could stay in one place. But they didn't ever stay long, what with walkers always on their trail.
They were closing in on eight months, winter had come and gone. They didn't lose anybody, so it was considered a victory. The walkers had slowed down some in the cold temperatures, bones freezing, joints frozen, locked into place. But walkers were diligant, they never tired, they just kept on going until they could move again, should they lose a limb in the process they couldn't be bothered, just as long as they were moving on again was all that mattered.
Lori's belly grew and expanded. She was their very own portable time bomb. But she never complained though. She just kept on, did as was needed. She even helped with the other children, the young ones, except Carl. The boy had grown into quite the young man as they searched for a new home, he was a functioning, working member of the group and a sharp shot. But Lori helped with Erin and Honey when should could tell it was becoming a little too much for Daryl all by himself. Erin shed many tears months ago when Jo finally sat her down and explained that Lacey wasn't coming back and neither was Sam or Rocket. But the tears had long since stopped, her lips became a permanent line and she spoke only when spoken to. Even then she would try to limit her responses to nods and shakes of the head. She followed Daryl's example. Though sometimes she would cautiously make her way to him, stand in front of him, twisting her fingers together until he acknowledged her and when he did, glancing up, then back down, giving a short nod, she would climb into his lap and they would just sit together. No tears, no words, just bask in one another's presence, soaking up the remains of what was left of the blonde that had been left in them.
Honey would mumble for her Ma, but as months passed her mumblings came less and less frequently. They all had assumed she'd forgotten Lacey, come to terms with it, but who were they to really understand what that child knew. She doesn't let out even the tiniest squeak anymore. She's just as, if not even more, quiet as Erin.
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Everyone is a little older now, in more ways than they'd care to count. Wise to the ways of this new world. It has aged them all, made them harder, meaner, tougher. It has given them the strength to stand firm in the face of horror, unflinching and unyielding. It has made them survivors.
When the prison is discovered and it's decided it's perfect by means of security and space. They can finally settle down, stop running and turn the place of corrections into a place of community, peace. They could do this, they would do this.
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Cutting a hole through the outer perimeter fence they all rushed in and closed the fence up with a length of rope through the links before running to the main gate and devising a plan.
That plan? Clear the yard.
"We could shut that gate, prevent more from fillin' the yard. We could pick off these walkers. We'll take the field by tonight." Rick words it like a suggestion, but states it without a hint of question.
"So, how do we shut the gate?"
Glenn is always the first to volunteer, "I'll do it. You guys cover me."
"No. 'S a suicide run." Maggie quickly countered, her feelings on the matter more than about losing her lover. Running through a field of walkers, it was running headlong to your death sentence.
"I'm the fastest." Glenn reasoned.
Jo threw a gentle punch against Glenn's shoulder, "We're both fast. Glenn and I will go."
This time Amy piped up in disagreement against her significant others risking literally life and limb to run a mission that would 100 percent end in their demise, "Jo."
Jo turned to her, "Amy-" but was cut off by Rick.
"No. Glenn, Maggie, Amy. You go, draw as many as you can over there. Pop 'em through the fence. Daryl, Jo, go back to the other tower. Carol, you've become a pretty good shot, take your time, we don't have a lot of ammo to waste. Hershel, you and Carl take this tower. I'll run for the gate." As soon as Rick gave out an order they were off on their tasks.
"What do you want me to do?" Sophia spoke up.
Rick rested a hand on her shoulder, "You... you stand watch, make noise with the others, just don't get too close. Stay near Erin and Honey, don't let them out of your sight."
"'Kay." she nodded. He gave a glimmer of a smirk before taking the chain-linked carabiner clips from Glenn and standing before the gate.
He gave a short glance at Lori and the gate rolled open...
A few short minutes later, the sound of gun shots piercing the air ceased. The yard was theirs.
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A small camp was built with a fire in the center. Everyone gathered around, feasting on the catch of the day, except those who were posted on watch and Rick who was walking the fence perimeter in search of defects. Walkers on the other side of the fence followed him all the way around, snarling and growling.
Jo shifted a nearly sleeping Honey off to Erin, who was nestled close to Sophia. He brushed off his backside as he stood up and wandered off toward the over turned truck where two people stood atop it. And from what he could see from the light of the moon, back rubbing ministrations were being performed. He snorted, a scoff that was something between amusement and revulsion. Sure, it had been eight months since his sister had walked away from them (on yet another heroic journey) and never returned. That might have been more than enough time for someone to mourn and move on, but in this world it seemed different. And if he was honest with himself, it was his sister, his big sister. In his mind there would never be a greater woman and in his mind he almost believed Daryl shouldn't ever stop mourning, just like he didn't. There would never be another woman like Lacey for Daryl. But it wasn't his place to tell someone how to live their life, especially in a world like this.
So he played it off as indifferent, unbothered. "Hey, you creepers," he called up them, hearing the remains of a quiet giggling as he grew closer. He shifted the strap of the rifle off his shoulder.
"You're off the clock, bub." he nodded to Daryl, eyeing Carol with a hint of a grin.
"I'll go down first," Daryl grumbled.
"Ever better," Carol quipped, apparently part of the joke they were sharing before Jo's arrival, he smothered the twist in his gut that felt like betrayal.
"Stop," Daryl mumbled back with a hint of amusement in his tone before he climbed down, assisting Carol after.
Jo just kept that grin on his face as Carol passed him, heading back to the mini camp.
"Hey, uh, Daryl?" Jo refrained from reaching out to him as he passed, though he never had to resort to a physical means to stop Daryl. As the months passed their friendship became... well, that. A friendship. Jo would absolutely refer to Daryl as his friend. And Daryl, he would do the same, less enthusiastically of course. Daryl turned sharply toward Jo, keen eyes apparently taking notice of the minute hint of worry in Jo's features.
"Go on," he said to Carol who'd stopped as well, "Be just a minute."
And Carol was walking toward the camp again.
"'Sup?" he nodded at Jo.
Jo shifted from foot to foot, "The girls ate. Hon's about ready to call it a night. She's with Erin... But, uhm," he paused, and Daryl made no attempt to urge him on, he just waited.
"We know that neither of them has really spoken much since... since... ya know...? With Erin it's understandable. And she even talks to you sometimes, so it's not that worrisome. But Honey..." he sighed, "All her mumblings have stopped. She's passed her first birthday, she's had to have. A-and she's growing and learning, but she doesn't talk anymore, and she can't even walk on her own. I'm a not a pro in child development, but this isn't exactly good. And I think she's smarter than we give her credit for, and..." he sighed again, this time in irritation, shooting a glance toward the fire where the girl he spoke of was no doubt snoozing easily, "What I'm trying to say is... This will be a good place to create stability, to teach her, to watch her grow and bloom. To parent her."
There was shift in Daryl's posture, a straightening in his spine that was answering to what he'd apparently taken from Jo's words as a challenge.
"She's growing, Daryl. Slow as it may be, she is growing. You have to be the parent you decided to be, you have to take responsibility and teach her. She needs to learn how to speak and how to walk. You have to be the father she understands you to be, she's already lost her mother, she can't lose you too."
Jo mentally thanked his love of language and communication and his sister for his being able to subtly slip that minor burn in. He was making suggestions to his friend, and if there happened to be an underlying message in there that said, 'Don't even think about it, pal' and it was heard, then their friendship was stronger than he'd assumed. But just because they were friends didn't mean that Daryl wouldn't be offended, or angry.
There was a few long moments of silence where Daryl just stared at Jo while considering his words or was perhaps contemplating how badly he could beat him before someone came to his rescue.
But in the end Daryl just nodded, "Once things are settled down, I'll get her to start walkin'."
There's no underlying message in his words, but Jo can hear a slight apology and promise. They share another nod before they part ways. Daryl back to the camp, Jo to the turned over truck. He glances toward the fire where everyone is gathered now, sees Daryl settle down beside Amy and Erin. Sees him pluck Honey carefully from Erin's arms, arranging Honey comfortably in one arm while the other pulled Erin over to him.
Jo chuckled quietly, turning away from the camp, his family, and looked out toward the expanse outside their little fortress. The world seemed a little less scary now. Though they still had work to do, but it felt easier now, calmer. He tilted his head skyward, "You can count on me, Lace. I'll keep that man of yours in line."
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Rick had made an observation the night before that the most of the walkers were dressed as guards and prisoners, which probably meant that the prison had succumbed early. It meant that supplies were possibly in tact. They planned to head for the warden's office first to get their information straight. The number of walkers that were just outside compared to their amount of ammo caused concern in most of the most of the group. When Rick said that they'd go in hand to hand, he was met with more troubled expressions. But his word was law, they'd all agreed to that eight months ago. They were going into that prison, and they were going to strike gold...
The next morning the plans were set and were soon to be put into motion.
Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, T and Jo would go through the gate and stay in tight formation, while the rest stayed on the outside of the gate, crowing and shaking at it, drawing as many walkers as they could and pick them off through the links. Easing the heat off the group as they carefully and quickly kill there way in with the cut-one-down-and-move-on-for-someone-else-to-finish-them-off strategy. There was trouble with armoured walkers, but that was quickly resolved by Maggie's example to just bypass the armour.
With the key clips in use again, they closed off a gate with a courtyard full of walkers. They were secure. Or so it seemed. One of the walkers was a civilian, which meant that some where the perimeter was breached. Inside the prison could be a total mess of walkers just waiting for them. They couldn't risk a blind spot, but they had to keep going...
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Inside the prison they were met with a quiet so bone chilling, so off putting it was oppressive. The scene just screamed 'go back', but they pressed in. They were already on edge, working on pure adrenaline, but even the tiniest sounds, the smallest drips from leaking pipes, the clinking of chain and lock against iron sent their pulses hammering even faster.
Rick retrieved the keys from the warden's perch, and they moved on into the cell block neighbouring- Cell block C.
The block was just as eerily quiet as the common area next to it. There were a few bodies in cells, deaddead ones, unlike the few that were dead, grabby and snarling on the second level. But they were an easy remedy...
The bodies were being dragged out as the rest of the group was guided in, belongings in tow. As Glenn so joyfully put it, it was their new home sweet home. Home. A cell block, within a prison, full of walkers...
For the time being at least.
This was the only secure area of the prison, so far. Tomorrow they would search out the cafeteria and the infirmary.
"Do we sleep in the cells?" Beth wondered.
Rick brought out a ring of keys, "Found some keys on some guards, Daryl has a set too."
"I ain't sleepin' in no cage." Daryl stated, "I'll take the perch." He nodded toward the stairs before heading to them and setting his crossbow against the wall.
Everyone else began picking their cells. They split up into pairs, choosing bunks. Erin stuck close to Sophia, taking the cell right next to Lori and Carol's. Jo and Amy next to them, then Glenn and Maggie and Hershel and Beth. Carl took a cell of his own. And Daryl took Honey before Amy could even set her down on the thin mattress, "Come on, baby girl. You ain't sleepin' in no cage either."
Honey was already leaning her head against his shoulder, hands flexing lazily over his bicep and neck. But she didn't make a peep.
Daryl stopped by Erin and Sophia's cell, "Y'alright in there, darlin'?"
Erin glanced to Sophia before nodding and murmuring a quiet, "Yeah."
He gave a nod back, "You know where I am."
The block was settled. A quiet came over things, heavy, but sort of peaceful kind. Everyone had their place, and much needed and deserved rest took over.
During the middle of the night Erin left her cell. Guided by the moonlight shining through the windows she found her way to where Daryl was laid out with Honey sprawled over his chest. He didn't startle awake when she scooted up into his side and pulled his arm over her. He'd heard her the moment her feet padded out of the cell. And once she was comfortable beside him, he allowed himself to really fall asleep.
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The next day before the intended agenda was glanced at, the armoured walkers are stripped. Aside from their heavy pads and helmets, they also had some riot weapons on them, most of it workable against walkers, the rest was up for experimentation.
"So, what's the plan, Cap?" Jo wondered, taking what seemed to be a heavier and longer version of an officer's nighstick Daryl offered to him.
Rick took notice of Jo's lift in attitude. The way he'd referred to Rick as 'Cap'. Over the last eight months he'd become quiet and cold. Now, he was more talkative, joking around a little more, like he used to, but he was tougher. Stronger mentally and physically. But since discovering this prison and making it theirs, it showed how something good could change somebody.
"Daryl, Hershel, Maggie, Glenn and T. We'll try to find food in the cafeteria or medical supplies in the infirmary. Which ever we find first. Jo, I need one man to stay behind, that's gonna be you." Rick explained while eyeing each person he mentioned.
All gave affirming nods, and Jo made no actions in opposing his task. In that way he didn't question Rick, the way he trusted him, he saw Lacey, the way he trusted him. But where Rick would seek council with Lacey, and Shane at that time, he didn't do the same with Jo. He may share some traits with his old sister, but he wasn't her. He was a good soldier, she was a good leader.
Those that chose to wear the gear taken from the walkers did though Daryl absolutely refused, and Rick didn't seem partial to it either. Heavy vests and pads were strapped on, and Carl was messing around with one of the cleaned out helmets.
"I need you to stay here." Rick told his son, taking the helmet away as he did. Jo's head lifted in interest, turning away from a stern faced Honey getting passed from Daryl's arms into Amy's.
"You're kidding!" Carl stated in confusion and mild irritation.
Jo walked over to the scene, while Rick explained quietly, "I need you here. If something should happen, you'll be one of the last men standing."
Carl gave a solemn, understanding nod. Jo dropped a hand on his shoulder, "Besides, I need you to back me up, buddy. Just like old times." he smirked, giving the kid a nudge. Just like old times before. Just like old times when Carl was really a kid. A smirk made its way to Carl's mouth, giving another nod as he handled the ring of keys his father had given him.
The group was geared up, flashlights in hand, weapons in the other. They moved through the gate and Carl locked it behind them.
"They'll be alright..." Beth said uncertainly, looking to Jo, "Won't they?"
Though the girl had toughened up some over the past months that was still all her family walking away from her. Jo nodded, slipping an arm around her shoulders, "They'll be fine."
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They were moving through the dark. Dark as pitch, flashlights moving frantically across the walls. They struggled to support Hershel and find their way back. But everywhere they turned they were met with silhouetted slinking bodies, accompanied by growls and snarls. The walker sounds were behind them as they found a clear path, the shuffling steps, the dragging limbs, the groaning.
In their attempt at finding their way back, or at least a place to assess Hershel's bite they found the cafeteria. A chain and lock around the door was cut away and they hastily shoved their way through the doors, slamming them shut behind them. Daryl and T using their weight to keep it closed against the relentless living-dead bodies on the other side...
They were working a slow and easy path, but then a group a walkers cut them off, sending them back the way they came. But then everywhere they turned walkers were coming out from hiding. The group was split apart. Maggie and Glenn. Hershel, T, Daryl and Rick. They waited the chaos out for a moment before trying to regroup. That's when a walker had grabbed Hershel and tore into his calf.
...His calf that was now severely bleeding on the cafeteria floor. Hershel was gasping and crying out from the pain of it. They all came to an agreement, a pact. And Rick wasn't going back on it.
He took his belt from his pants, tied off Hershel's leg above his knee, told the other to hold him still.
He hacked away at Hershel's leg. Nearing 10 chops later, Hershel's sounds had ceased, he was passed out from the shock. But the walkers were still outside and Hershel was bleeding out, they needed to get him back to the cell block where Carol might be able to do something about it.
The shock of what Rick had just done wore off just as quickly as it hit him. But it was Daryl's whispered warning of, "Duck," That sent his nerves on high alert again.
Rick dropped and Daryl popped up, crossbow aimed, five targets in his sight line peering in horrified shock through kitchen's gated window.
"Holy shit," a voice came from the new group that were obviously not walkers, but just as much of a threat.
"Who the hell are you?" Daryl asked, stepping cautiously yet threateningly toward the men inside the kitchen.
"Who the hell are you!?" a different voice demanded right back.
There wasn't any time for this. Rick instructed Maggie to keep pressure on Hershel's knee, hard, hard pressure. They needed a way to transport him back to the block.
"Come on outta there. Slow and steady." Daryl instructed, but the men were already moving. Moving and looking curiously toward the scene beyond Daryl.
"What happened to him?" the one who seemed to be the leader of the rag tag, jump-suited group of felons wondered.
"He got bit."
"Bit...?" the leader pulled out a correction officer's issued handgun tucked inside the tied off arms of his jumpsuit at his waist, somewhat cautiously.
T was quicker on his draw. Adding another weapon held onto these strangers.
Daryl's voice took on a friendly tone, "Woah, woah, woah. Easy now. Ain't nobody needs to get hurt." but his hands were still aiming and trigger ready.
Glenn, body and mind seemingly shocked into auto-pilot, stepped quickly through the crossfire and into the kitchen, "You have medical supplies?"
"Who the hell are you people, anyway?" the gun wielder demanded.
"Don't look like no rescue team." the smallest and oldest of the bunch commented.
"If a rescue team's what you're waitin' for- Don't," Rick responded while he eased Hershel off his back into a sitting position, "We gotta go! Now! C'mon!" There was a crash from the kitchen and Glenn emerged a moment later pushing a dinner cart. There was a struggle to lift Hershel onto the cart, but once he was up they started rolling for the door.
T took his aim away from the prisoners and pulled his riot gear weapon of choice away from the door handles that it was barricading. The walkers insistently pounding away started their way in once the door swung open but T gave them a pop to the skull and shoved them away. The cart moved forward, the group attached to it. Rick called for Daryl who still had his aim poised on the criminals, he swept out quick, never turning his back until they were out of his sight and he was out the door.
It's a mad dash back to C block. Carl was quick with the keys and swinging the door open. Hershel was brought to his and Beth's cell and now it was up to Carol. Hershel had taught her a few things, in preparation for the impending delivery of Lori's baby. Hopefully her small amount of knowledge would save Hershel's life.
The prisoners had followed them and Daryl was in the common area outside the block waiting. Crossbow loaded, aim on the door way. They peered into the light, easing into the area slowly.
"That's far enough," he warned.
"Cell block C. Cell four. That's mine, gringo. Lemme in." the leader nodded toward the locked door.
Daryl didn't flinch, didn't bat a lash, unbothered, "Today's your lucky day fellas. You been pardoned by the State of Georgia, you're free to go."
But the leader of the bunch seemed just as unbothered, though he was in no way as learned as the hunter, "Wha'cha got goin' on in there?"
"Ain't none of your concern." Daryl snapped back.
"Don't be tellin' me what's my concern!" the handgun was brought out again, there really was no telling, no way to predict this guy or any of them.
Daryl stood taller, keeping his aim, if not leveling it steadier at a sight between the man's eyes.
"Chill man. Dude's leg is messed up. 'Sides we're free now. Why we still in here?" the biggest of the five pleaded.
"Man's got a point."
"Yeah, and I gotta check on my old lady," another commented, and there was millisecond where Daryl faltered, though he'd never, ever go so far as to refer to her as his 'old lady', it was still a reference to... He mentally shook it off.
"Group of civilians breaking into a prison you got no business bein' in got me thinkin' there ain't no place for us to go." the leader argued back, but kept his gaze on Daryl, his arm straight, finger held just over the trigger.
"Why don't you go find out!" Daryl spat back.
The oldest, and clearly smartest, of the correction garbed group piped up, "Maybe we'll just be goin now."
"We ain't leavin'!" the leader stormed with a threatening shake of his gun.
"You ain't comin' in either." T materialized and took aim at the prisoners yet again.
The stand off and shouting match continued, voices growing louder and louder, fuses on tempers growing shorter and shorter with a bonus of lethal weapons. It quieted down only slightly when Rick made his appearance again, asking for calm, insisting there was no need for this.
"How many of you in there?" the leader nodded toward the block beyond the strangers.
"Too many for you to handle." Rick answered without hesitancy.
"You guys rob a bank or somethin'? Why don't you take him to a hospital."
For a moment it seemed like the gun wielding criminal was truly concerned, but more confused, and even more terrified. T, Rick and Daryl exchanged glances. These guys had no idea...
"How long've you been locked in that cafeteria...?"
The prisoners pieced together information. They were nearing the tenth month of being stashed away in that cafeteria, 292 days, or 294 days depending on who you asked. At the beginning, a riot broke out when they were told about people going 'cannibal' after coming back to life. Crazy shit. The last human contact they had was the guard that locked them up in the cafeteria, he gave them the gun and said he'd be back soon... And this is where they were now.
"We were thinking that the army or the national guard should be showing up anyday now," the biggest ventured, hope in his tone.
But Rick easily quashed any hope, after all this time, in this world, he'd learned that gentle isn't going to save any body, not their feelings, not anything. It was best to just give it straight, "There is no army."
"Wha'cha mean." the one with the gun demanded.
"There's no government. No hospital. No police, it's all gone." Rick shrugged simply.
"For real?" asked the old one in honest disbelief and bewilderment.
"Serious." Rick nodded.
The biggest one turned his gaze to the floor solemnly, "What about my moms..."
"My kids..." another one mumbled, "My old lady... Man, you gotta-gotta cell phone or something, we can call our families?"
Daryl scoffed under his breath, trying to ignore the squeezing and tensing in his stomach at the mention of wives, mothers and kids, "You just don't get it, do you?"
"No phones. No computers. As far as we can see, as least half the population's been wiped out. Probably more." Rick explained with a casualness only a survivor could manage. There was a long moment where the prisoners considered the new information, the unbelievable information given to them, all was quiet. The gun dropped down to hang limply from the wielder's hand, "Ain't no way."
Rick gestured to the doors, "See for yourself."
Along the journey outside the prisoners whispered among themselves, louder than they were aware, apparently since through their hisses Rick, T and Daryl were able to catch a few names. 'But Tomas-' 'Axel, shut up.' 'All's I was tryin' to say wa-' 'Shut the fuck up, man!' 'Yo, Andrew, just calm down. Leave him alone.'
The door creaked and scraped open, the felons stepped out first, slowly, carefully. Shading their eyes as they winced at the sunlight, having not felt a ray of sunshine in almost a year. They stepped out into the yard, some taking note of the vast amount of bodies littering it, shocked, appalled, disgusted, saddened, while the rest step through the carnage like it was nothing new.
Tomas, the gun toting leader, spread his arms wide and tilted his face skyward, "Damn the sun feels good... Never thought I'd be so happy to see these fences."
"Lord... they're all dead." Axel, the oldest one, commented with a hint of horror in his voice.
"You never said, how the hell'd you get in here in the first place." growled the one seemed to be the second most aggressive, Andrew.
"Cut a hole in that fence over there," Daryl explained, gesturing, "by that guard tower."
"That easy, huh?" Andrew seemed unimpressed.
"Where there's a will there's a way." Rick summed up.
"Easy for you to say." Andrew scoffed, while the biggest one and seemingly most curious, picked up a stick a poked at a decaying body on the ground.
He wondered as he stepped away from the body, "So what is this, like a disease?"
"Yeah. And we're all infected." Rick bluntly stated.
"Whad'a'you mean infected? You mean, like, AIDS or somethin'?" Axel sputtered.
"If I was to kill you, shoot an arrow into your chest," Daryl's example doubled as a warning, "You'd come back as one of these things. It's gonna happen to all of us..." and he tried hard not to think about the idea that maybe... maybe they weren't so lucky to... that they were out there and- No... He wouldn't think about that possibility.
Tomas snapped, "Ain't no way this Robin Hood cat's responsible for killin' all these freaks."
"Must be 50 bodies out here," Andrew noted.
"Where'd you come from?" Tomas started slowly making his way toward Rick.
But Rick didn't falter, he'd seen, heard and even smelled things that these guys could never even dream of, a few convicts weren't going to have Rick shaking in his boots, "Atlanta."
"Where you headed?"
And so it was going to start again, a shouting match, a pissing contest, no doubt weapons would be drawn again. But Rick was a wise man. He could read these guys.
"For now, no where."
Tomas, surprisingly, nodded. Unsurprisingly though, he stated, "Guess you could take that area down there near the water. Should be comfortable."
"We're using that field for crops."
"We'll help you move your gear out," Tomas tried to play the unbothered act too, the high and mighty, fear me angle. But it wasn't going to work. Not on this group of survivors.
"That won't be necessary. We took out these walkers, this prison is ours."
"Slow down, cowboy."
"You snatched the locks off our doors!" Andrew, though small, made up for his lack of height with voice and enthusiasm.
"We'll give you new locks, if that's how you want it." Rick said.
"This is our prison. We were here first."
"Locked in the broom closet," Rick taunted, but a second later he was serious, "We took it. Set you free. It's ours. We spilled blood."
"We're moving back into our cell block," Tomas decided.
"You'll have to get your own."
"It is mine. I still got personal artifacts in there. That's about as mine as it can get." And as predicted, tempers flared and Tomas pulled out the security guard's gun and pointed it at Rick. T and Daryl were quick to point their weapons straight back at the offender, but Rick didn't even flinch or make a move to grab his own piece.
"Woah, woah, woah." Axel, the most peaceful of the group, came to stand alongside Rick and Tomas, "Maybe let's try to make this work out so everybody wins."
"I don't see that happening..." Tomas grumbled.
"Neither do I," Rick rumbled right back.
"I ain't goin' back into that cafeteria for one whole minute."
"There are other cell blocks," Axel reasoned.
"You could leave. Try your luck out on the road," Daryl suggested gruffly.
For a few long moments Tomas looked around at his fellow inmates, at the strangers- the survivors, considering everything before speaking again, "These three pussies could do all this. The least we could do is take out another cell block."
"With what?" the biggest asked.
"Atlanta here will spot us some real weapons. Won't you, boss..." Where Jo's 'boss' comment had been light hearted, it was a true statement, Rick was the leader of the pack, what he says goes, it was understood. But Tomas' was a snide remark, mocking.
A flicker of a smirk came over Rick's mouth before he wondered, "How stocked is that cafeteria? Must have plenty of food. Five guys lasting almost a year..."
"Doesn't look like anybody's been starvin'," Daryl noted, crossbow still aimed unwavering at Tomas' skull.
"There's only a little left," came the response.
"We'll take half. In exchange, we'll help clear out a cell block." Rick set the offer out, though it wasn't much of an offer, it was more of a plan... a transaction.
"Didn't you hear him?" Andrew took a step toward Rick, "There's only a little left."
"Bet you got more food than you got choices," Rick said, "You pay we'll play. We'll clear out a block for you and you keep to it."
Tomas eyed the former small town sheriff in front of him for a moment before giving a short nod, "Deal..."
The tension seemed to ease, but only slightly. Daryl lowered his crossbow, but didn't dare let those inmates walk behind him, or Rick, or T for even a second. They all started back toward the gate that led to the door back inside.
Sometimes, in the silence, things may be heard that aren't truly there- at least Daryl had experienced it a lot over the past eight months, a trick played on the ears by imagination. He lost count of the times he thought he heard Lacey calling his name or Sam's laughter. A few times he even thought he heard Robert's slurring voice and cackles. So when there was a far off barking sound, Daryl simply ignored it. Summing up to himself that it was indeed just another trick of his mind, and he probably needed some more sleep once this shit was over with.
But then he saw the confused, interest peeked looks on the others faces, even the prisoners. And the barking... didn't cease... In fact, it grew louder as it continued.
T glanced among the men, before stammering slightly, "Is that a... dog...?"
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Don't forget to swing by the tumblr page. ahiddenbanshee . Nonsensical bullshit and the like. No one's pressuring you though, shh, calm down.
Also, thanks (again) to Rexi, just 'cuz she's a babe ;)
