Alright everybody, here's chapter three ready to go. Thanks for the reviews and what not guys. This chapter doesn't have a lot of Daryl/Joey interaction, but next chapter will...enjoy :)
Leyshla Gisel: Yeah, it's a bit cheery, but I'd be cheery, too, if I had people to talk to after months of being without any company other than a dog :P
I slept so good that night, dreaming of cold beer and good food, that I rolled right off the edge of the bed and into the floor, where I remained until well past noon. When I awoke, bright-eyed and in a pleasant mood, I found the baby wipes I had stashed in my bag and cleaned myself up before stepping into a pair of worn denim shorts and a wife beater. I ran a brush through my hair, pulled on my cowboy boots and popped on my hat, and then sat on the edge of my bunk. "Mornin' Mamma," I whispered staring at the picture on the desk. "We found us a place, so no need ta' worry. I'll be alright..." I ran my hands over my face and then laid back on the bed, throwing my hat over my face. That was something, no matter where I was, that I did every morning. I always talked to my mom...crazy, I know, but it helped, even though I knew she was long gone.
After a few minutes, I sighed and stood, stretching my legs. Better get on outta' here and see what's happening. Before I exited the cell, I snatched my Glock from the desk and slid it into my back pocket, without a thought. It had become second nature to me and everyone to arm ourselves as soon as our eyes opened. Outside in the main room I looked up and down the block for signs of life. Panic struck me when I saw no one and then I heard chattering coming from the large center cell. I headed that way and found Lori and Carol sitting at a table with small tin cups of what could only be water.
"Mornin', Sleepy Head." Lori smiled.
"Mornin'" I replied, stretching with a yawn.
"Did you sleep good?" Carol asked.
"Best sleep I've had in a long time...where's everyone at?"
"Beth's in her cell-" Carol started.
"Room." Lori interjected.
"Reading a book, and Carl's over in his,"
"Drawing or something."
"The rest went out to see if they could find the cafeteria."
"Whoo," I pretended to wipe sweat off my brow, "I'm glad they didn't ask me to go, I don't envy them one bit!" The other women laughed at that.
"Actually, they did try to wake you up...but T said you were moaning and, what were his words?" Lori giggled, looking to the other woman.
"I do believe it was, 'Oh hell, naw, I'm gettin' outta here!'" Carol laughed, "So, what were you dreaming about? Huh?" A knowing smile popping onto here face as she waggled an eyebrow.
"Not what y'all are thinkin'!" I chuckled, "Well, ladies, I guess I'm gonna' head outside and see if I can't get some of them bodies moved. Do something productive."
"Will you check on Carl before ya' go?" Lori asked as I walked out the door.
"Sure, no problem."
I turned to my left and headed up the stairs and then on to the last cell. Sticking my head through the door, I smiled, "Hey, Carl, whatcha' doin' kiddo?"
"Cleanin' my gun."
"Dude, that's like the hundredth time this month! It can't need cleaning that often!"
"I'm bored..."
"That sucks...you wanna' come outside and help me move some bodies?"
He thought for a second and then stood, placing his hat on his head, "Yeah!" We scrambled out to the yard before Lori could protest, Diesel in tow. Once out in the sun we searched through each of the corpses' pockets and bags, looking for anything useful, while my dog ran around the perimeter marking his territory...obviously, utterly confused walker number two was his property...
"Joey! Look what I found!" Carl hollered from one side of the yard, hoisting a small box into the air. I stopped my search of a guard and ran over to Carl. He opened up the box, revealing a small gold and diamond engagement ring. "Maybe we should give it to Glenn?" He asked.
"Yeah, I think that would be a good idea, that way Mags could have a real ring." I ruffled the kid's hair and then went back to searching. About an hour later we had a decent sized pile of stuff sitting by the door. Silently, we set out to move the bodies, one at a time over to the furthermost corner of the fenced area. Carl would take the feet, I'd lift at the shoulders and together we managed to carry them. As we hefted one of the walkers into the air, I heard a sickly snap and its head rolled over onto my arm, its tongue, a nasty black in color, landing slap dab on my wrist. I gave out a little squeak in fright and dropped the bag of bones and virus to the ground. "Damn it!" I cursed, jumping back.
"It's dead, Jo, it can't bite ya' anymore!" Carl laughed, totally amused. "C'mon, we gotta get these things moved."
Clouds had moved in before we finished moving the bodies but we managed to stack them all, set them on fire, and get the hoard of loot into the building before a light sprinkle started...thankfully, it wasn't heavy enough to douse the flames. Carl had gone right back to his cell when we returned, not wanting to chance running into his mom...that family had more problems than a mental patient! I had gone to my room to grab a book, and then settled out in the main room, perched on a window sill. Diesel had run off to lay down next to a peacefully sleeping Beth...that dog was a damned traitor!
I was halfway through the fifth chapter of my very steamy romance novel when a commotion out in the corridor caught my attention. Looking that way I heard Rick screaming for us to unlock the door. Carl dashed from his cell room and swung the heavy iron bars out of the way just as they wheeled Hershel in on a cart.
"He's been bit!"
Everything happened so fast that it almost blurred. They moved Hershel from the gurney to his bed while Carol washed her hands in the, surprisingly, still functioning sink and Maggie popped open the medicine bag. Carol, now sitting at the bed side, examined the wound seeings as Hershel had been training her. "We need to stop the bleeding!" she stated as she threw blankets and towels over the bleeding stump that was all that remained of his leg. The pure white linens, almost instantaneously, turned a vibrant shade of crimson red as copious amounts of blood spilled out of the wound.
"Is he gonna' die?" Beth, awake and scared, questioned, sobbing into Lori's shirt. Lori comforted the girl and sent Carl running after more towels.
"Should we burn it?" Glen asked as we all leaned over the bed.
"No, it'll put him into shock."
"Stitches?" I looked at the woman, only to receive a shake of her head.
.
"We don't have the supplies...and it probably wouldn't hold...we're just going to have to stop the bleeding on our own and hope he hasn't lost too much blood. Can you go boil me some water?" I moved from my spot, letting Lori replace me and then went to the large cell. In there I filled one of the small cooking pots with water and then sat it atop the griddle that someone, I think Glenn, had rigged to a car battery. While the water heated I grabbed a sheet that had been laying on the shelf and ripped it up to use as makeshift bandages, and then I skipped over to my room and shuffled through my bag.
I returned to Hershel's cell and handed over the pot of water, still boiling, and the sheets to Lori before turning to Carol. "Here," I said, handing her a small purple drawstring bag, "There's some Tylenol in there and some neosporin...I don't have much else." She thanked me and then got back to work on Mr. Greene. When the older woman was satisfied that all that could be done was done for the moment, Rick recounted the story to us: They had been walking down a hall and a walker on the floor that they hadn't noticed took out a chunk of his leg. They had pulled the older man into the cafeteria and Rick had amputated the bitten portion, as we had all agreed we should try the next time someone was attacked. As he finished with his tale, we all were surprised by the sound of a very angry Daryl yelling at some unknown entity.
"Prisoners." Rick said walking our of the cell. He turned back and called for Glenn and me. "Glenn I want you to stay at his side. If he turns, shoot him." Glenn nodded his head and went back in, and then Rick turned to me. "I'm down three guns, I need you out here with us."
"But-"
"No, buts, I need you out there." He effectively cut off my protest and hauled me out the door.
We ran up on Daryl and T with a group of five men in prison jumpsuits, all yelling at each other.
"Calm down, now, there's no use for this!" Rick tried his best to defuse the situation.
"How many people you got in there?" A Hispanic man asked.
"Too many for you to handle." Rick said with an air of challenge.
"You guys rob a bank or somethin'? Why don't you take that guy to a hospital?!"
Rick stood there for a minute and then asked, "How long have you guys been in there?"
They told us they had been in there for about 10 months...10 months! I felt bad for them, they had no idea what was going on. Rick told them about the walkers, and the state of things. "I need to call my moms, any of you got a cell phone?" The largest of the five men asked.
"You just don't get it do you?" Daryl just had to be mean.
"It's a virus, it took out everyone, as far as we can tell half the population's gone, maybe more." Rick's voice held a small note of sadness. The prisoners were crestfallen, their thoughts turning to those they loved most. They talked of children, lovers, parents and siblings, finally registering that they were gone, the world was in disrepair and that there would not be any help nor safety. A couple, though, were in denial, refusing to hold Rick's word as true. We then offered them the chance to step outside and pushed them into the yard.
It took them a few seconds to adjust to the sunlight, which had just pushed through the clouds. One of them strolled up to my burn pile, "Their all dead!" He announced. They all examined the walkers ambling just outside the fence line, and they drew back in horror as a particularly feisty female tried to claw them through the holes. Making their way back up to us quickly, the Hispanic, Tomas, turned on Rick telling him that we needed to pack up and clear out.
I stood next to Daryl with my gun pointed at one of the prisoners. The other men stood in similar positions, aside from our "Boss Man."
"We were here first!" Tomas snapped, getting right into Rick's face.
The former cop's lips moved into a crooked grin, "We took this prison, we set you free! That makes it ours." The fighting continued between them until the older man, Axel, stepped in and tried to broker some peace, "Now, I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement, maybe get our own cell block."
"Yeah, If these pussies could clear out a cell block I'm sure we could, too!" Tomas confidently announced. I could feel Daryl tense further beside me. I arched an eyebrow and choked back a sarcastic reply. "If Atlanta, here, will lend us some weapons." Tomas finished, looking at Rick.
"I'll make a deal with you. You give us half the food in the cafeteria, and we'll clear out a cell block for you."
"There ain't much left." Tomas looked Rick right in the eye.
"There's got to be plenty...Five grown men surviving for almost a year..."
"Yeah, and that one don't look like he's missed any meals." Daryl pointed his crossbow at Big Tiny.
"Like he said, there isn't much left!" one of the other men spat.
"Pfft. Whatever!" I tried my best to mirror Rick's smirk from earlier.
"Stay outta' this, bitch!" Tomas growled stomping towards me. Daryl shoved me behind him and put his crossbow in the man's face.
"Try it, I kill ya'." He growled. See, always saving my ass...
I felt like a hero coming in from war carrying a box of canned goods into the cell block.
"What do you got in there?" Carl asked, running up beside us.
"Canned corn, canned beans, canned cans..." T-dog answered. Giggling at that, I followed the men back to the last cell and dropped my box off next to a sack of rice. Coming out, I saw Lori and Rick in the corner talking...I felt bad for her. Yeah, she'd made mistakes, but who hadn't? And, right now, she didn't need the added stress of a pissed off husband. Again, that family had some major issues... It wasn't my place to say anything, though, so I walked on by, but I thought on their situation on my way back to the cafeteria.
As I strolled up to the door, it seemed Daryl was arguing it out with Tomas again. I caught the end of something that Tomas had said, something about a 'piece.' Instead of running to Daryl's aid, I stood out of sight and eavesdropped. "And I told ya' to shut yer fuckin' mouth!" Daryl snarled.
"You pluckin' it?" The sound of crashing shelves banging on the floor reverberated off the walls making me leap out of my skin. T-dog and Rick came running down the corridor and I trailed them into the large room. Sure enough, Daryl had tackled Tomas into a shelf that was holding large tubs of lard. They both laid amidst the wreckage brawling like snotty-nosed schoolboys over a childhood crush. T and I pulled out our guns, once more training them on the prisoners, while Rick pulled the troublemakers apart.
"What the hell was that about?" Rick yelled, irritation coloring his words.
"Why don't ya' ask your friend, pendejo!" Tomas snapped. Rick rubbed his forehead and then pulled Daryl off to the side. After a few minutes the men strode back to the rest of us and Rick started doling out orders. "We'll go two at a time side by side. Daryl and T will take the point, I'll bring up the rear with Joey."
"Forgetting someone?" I inquired.
"Huh?"
"There's five of them, Rick..."
"Well one of the rows will have three. Now, the most important thing is to stay in formation."
"And aim for the head." I interrupted.
"You don't need ta' tell us how to kill a man." Tomas smirked with confidence.
"These aren't human anymore." Daryl chimed in,
"More like mutants." T-dog threw in his two cents, causing me to have the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song stuck in my head. After our briefing on what we were doing we lined up and fifteen minutes later we were walking down a dark corridor in formation.
I carried my knife in my right hand, my machete in my left, ready for action. Before long we came up on our first batch of walkers: a group of three deteriorating cadavers dressed in tattered versions of standard prison jumpsuits. The inmates shivered in fear as the prospect of battling these creatures became real, and just as quickly as the fear presented itself it disappeared, replaced by a stroke of wild freedom. As one, they broke rank, just as we told them not to, and attacked the walkers, prison style, while the rest of us stood back shaking our heads at their stupidity.
"Did he just try ta' shank it?!" I asked, amused, with an arched eyebrow and my head tipped sideways. Rick smacked his palm against his face, Daryl laughed, and T stood there with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. After being on the outside for so long, it was weird to once again watch as someone made their first attempt to slay the undead freaks. They were clumsy, of course, and despite our previous warnings and the fact that the walkers weren't going down, they continued to fight like the monsters were still human. Finally, amusement gone, we walked into the mess and dispatched the geeks.
"Dudes...that's how you get yourselves killed..." I shook my head.
"Sorry..." came a sheepish reply from Big Tiny.