A/N: This chapter was a long time coming, but you'll all be glad to know that the story's pretty much written, and I am very excited to share the remaining chapters with you in quick succession. Thanks again for following this little tale of hope, and my exploration of moments of joy. I hope you like where it's taking you. ~ CeeCee
They all wait there, in the prison yard, until the five retreating figures were less than specks on the horizon. Carol sighs, careful not to let the tears spill onto her cheeks. May be time for that later, but not now. She realizes that she's toughened up over the winter. She's not sure if that's good or bad.
She assesses the group in the yard, which is larger than the group that's just left. They're a bit of a motley crew: she, Hershel, Beth, Carl, Glenn and, of course, baby Judith; Axel, now aimless and somewhat lost after the death of his final inmate comrade; Tyrese, the girl Sasha, who Carol believes is related to Tyrese in some way, and Ben, the young guy traveling with them, who's said very little.
Tyrese and Glenn suddenly begin talking at the same time:
"So, what do you guys think about heading-"
"Sasha had a good idea about a place we could –"
Both men pause, grin sheepishly, and gesture for the other to continue. Carol smiles a little; no two men in their group could be more physically opposite, but both of them have an innate politeness. Glenn finally wins the little battle of cordiality and Tyrese nods and continues.
"So, what I was saying, was, Sasha, Ben, Julie and I – Julie's the one we lost after Carl here found us – we passed a small, gated estate house about, oh, twelve, fifteen miles southwest of here a few days ago. Defensively, it looked like a pretty good set-up." He pauses, mulls it over. "Well, at least for awhile, and at least from walkers – other people, that'd be another story."
"Why didn't you guys stop there then?" Glenn asks.
"We didn't have the manpower for the clean out. The perimeter gate was solid – metal, at least 15 feet high – and even the most wasted geek wouldn't be able to squeeze through the bars. But there were a sizeable number of 'em wandrin' around inside, on the grounds. Looked like there was about an acre or so of land, and there were some remnants of tents and camping gear. Best I can guess, the family that lived there probably holed up in the house for awhile, started lettin' folks stay on their lawn. They musta let someone infected in at some point, and the whole thing went to shit," Tyrese shrugs.
"So…you think we could manage walker clean up now?" Carl jumps into the conversation.
"Yeah, man, I think we could do it," Tyrese responds, nodding slowing. Carol notices he doesn't treat Carl like a child, but like an equal; well, at least like a younger man. Guess that's something else we'll need to get used in this world, she thinks, childhood will be MUCH shorter. She looks at Judith, blowing spit bubbles in Beth's arms, and wonders when the little girl will hold her first knife. Or kill her first walker.
Glenn speaks, "How many would you say there are, Tyrese?"
"Dunno exactly, as there's gotta be at least a handful of them inside the buildings. There's a main house, pretty big, with an attached garage, along with some sorta shed or outbuilding. We saw, what, Sasha, forty or so?"
"Yeah, 'bout that. Maybe fifty, tops," Sasha speaks up, thinking. "We can probably guess there's at least another twenty or so wanderin' around inside the main house, don't ya think?" Tyrese exchanges a glance with Ben, and both men nod in agreement with Sasha.
"So…ok, at least forty, but maybe as many as seventy," Glenn muses over this. He looks around at the group, assessing. "How prepped are you guys when it comes to hand-to-hand walker elimination?" He directs this question at Sasha. "On our side, we've got myself, Carol, Carl…and Axel? What do you think?"
"Suppose I could manage, if I had myself a good knife or bat or somethin'," Axel agrees.
"All three of us, for sure," Sasha replies.
"So seven of us, at least forty roaming walkers in a gated yard; inside's a big question mark," Tyrese says. "We take care of the yard first, then check for open points of egress in the house?"
"Yeah," Glenn responds. "Hershel, you and Beth, you'll need to wait in one of the vehicles with Judith. If something goes wrong, you get outta there, find somewhere to hole up until Rick and the others come back. If they come back." Carol can tell Glenn is trying very hard not to think about Maggie, and the danger she's heading into.
"They'll come back, son," Hershel responds, hugging Beth with one arm. "I gotta believe that."
"Yeah, well," Glenn's face is pinched and distracted. "Let's get going. Less talkin', more doing."
ooooooOOOOOoooooo
Carol stands, with the others, outside of the high, wrought-iron fence surround the house. Tyrese and Sasha had described the place well: beyond the curlicued iron gates, a white-stoned drive curves up towards a large, rambling brick house (mansion, more like¸ Carol thinks) with a connected garage and a sizeable storage building, in the same red brick, slightly to the west of the main abode.
The lawn is littered with the remnants of a sprawling campground: collapsed tents, ashy fire pits, clothing and bags scattered like confetti on the grass. No one living has been beyond these gates in some time.
The walkers, for the most part, are centralized near the buildings, several hundred yards away. They haven't noticed the group of live humans, standing in a straggling line, staring at them. Most of them move in that hazy way they have, mobile only because of some distant, reptilian memory that mocks actual life. Carol thinks back to Jenner at the CDC, showing them the image of his wife's reanimated brain: just fuzzy, dim fire at the base of the skull. Not much, and not human, Carol reminds herself.
"They all look pretty bad," Axel pipes up. "I mean, I know they're geeks, but – they look worse'n usual."
"Think about it," Ben chimes in. "They've been stuck in there, how long? Almost a year? Without anything…anyone…to eat. Geeks seem to last awhile, even without eating, but these guys must be pretty hungry."
"Yeah, and hopefully, weaker because of it," Tyrese nods.
"Or, they could be more aggressive, more desperate," Glenn muses. "In any case, let's do this." He hands out weapons, passing Carol a large crowbar. "Hang on to your knife, but it'd be best if you can take them out without getting that close." She nods, appreciating the heft of the iron in her hands.
"Everyone ready?" Tyrese looks around and boosts Sasha over the fence, looks questioningly at Carol, who places her foot in his proffered hand. He hurtles her over the gate. Here we go, she thinks as she scrambles to the ground. He helps the rest of them over, then pulls himself up, jumps to the lawn.
"Tyrese – you, Ben, Sasha and Axel, take the area in front of the main house," Glenn barks out as they begin jogging towards the walkers, "Carol – you, me and Carl, we'll take the area by the garage and that shed over there."
Their group fans out, and Carol's line of vision narrows down to the task at hand. She's dimly aware of the familiar wet thuds filling the air, as the others' weapons connect with the walkers' rotting skulls. She moves towards a trio of walkers, shambling in a tight group. One, which in life had been a young woman with pale, long hair, turns her cloudy eyes towards Carol. The left half of her head is blackened and rotted away. Carol takes advantage of this, swings the crowbar with all of her strength. The female walker's skull crumples, right before she falls to the lawn.
She's now got the attention of the walker's compatriots, two larger, male walkers, both, conspicuously, in blood-stained tuxedos that are little more than rags. She registers this with disbelief, then slams the crowbar into one's eye.
Glenn is beside her now, laughing a bit maniacally, "Musta been a killer party!" He cackles, bringing his bat down on the other tuxedoed zombie.
"Carol, Glenn!" Carl, his voice panicked. Carol turns and sees why. He's surrounded by a loose circle of six or seven walkers. Two more lay decommissioned at his feet. She and Glenn sprint over, taking out several walkers simultaneously. Carl, regaining his confidence, plunges the long hunting knife Glenn gave him into one of the smaller walkers. In life, he'd probably been about Carl's age.
The three of them rush towards the garage, where a few geeks are clawing vacantly at the panes of glass, trying mindless to gain access. Carl quickly shoves his knife up and into the back of one walker's neck. Glenn knock two of the walkers down, and Carol quickly swoops in, smashing their skulls into the ground.
The gravel path in front of the house and garage are now littered with the no-longer-walking dead. Carol catches her breath, leaning an arm on Glenn. Tyrese, Sasha, Ben and Axel have cleared the way towards the front door of the house, and are waving them over. Carol mentally takes note of the bodies as the lope over. They've taken out at least forty of them in the initial assault.
"All good? No one bit, no one scratched?" Tyrese questions the three of them, wiping sweat from his face. The seven of them nod and smile tiredly at each other. Carol glances back at the road, where Hershel is standing tensely by the car containing Beth and Judith. She raises one hand in a wave, and he waves back. She can almost see the relief on his face from here.
"Ok, now inside," Glenn says to them. Then he starts laughing, a little crazily, again. "What were these people doing? Holding a zombie fundraising event?" He's prodding the prone body of a female walker, decked out in a slinky, red silk dress, with one ratty sneaker. "No wonder they're toast." He shakes his head.
They head as a group towards the front door. Glenn places his ear against the painted wood. "Can't hear much; wood's too thick. Be ready." He kicks it open, and it's like opening the gates of hell during a celebration: several dozen emaciated walkers pour out, all dressed in frayed, tattered finery.
Carol takes out one, two, three, mindlessly, trying to ignore her screaming shoulder muscles, which are begging her to stop.
"AaaaaAAAAAAAHHH," Ben screams as several walkers drag him to the ground, ripping into his shoulder. A splutter of red shoots into the air.
"Shit, shit, shit," Tyrese slices through the necks of two walkers with his axe; Sasha is screaming as she pulls Ben away. The young man gropes blindly at his friend's arm, blood drenching his entire right side. He shudders, stills. "Get out of the way, Sasha. Don't look." Tyrese raises his axe, gazing sadly at Ben.
"TYRESE! DON'T!" Sasha wails as the weapon whooshes through the air.
"Shit," Tyrese says tiredly.
ooooooOOOOOoooooo
Glenn, Carol, Axel and Carl stand in the enormous kitchen as the sun sets in a blaze of red. The group spent the remainder of the afternoon piling the dead, along with their detritus, into a large pile behind the house. A gruesome bonfire blazes beyond the sliding glass doors leading into the lushly overgrown backyard.
Hershel snores loudly on a couch in one of the many sitting rooms on the ground floor. Beth has taken Judith to an opulently decorated nursery on the second floor.
Tyrese and Sasha are bowed over a small gravesite. They had wanted to bury Ben alone. Carol can respect that.
"I…I gotta go lay down," Axel looks like he's going to fall over. Carol realizes this man probably hasn't been beyond the prison gates in years. He's likely exhausted as much by the shock of actually seeing that world is riddled with the walking dead as he's physically tired. It's one thing to hear it, another entirely to see it. He wanders away in search of a place to rest.
"I want to go see Judith," Carl says suddenly. Carol smiles a little at that. She thinks the appeal in seeing his sister also sits with her babysitter.
"Do you want something to eat, Carl?" She hands him a few small jars of applesauce. This place is stocked to the gills. If it weren't for the threat of the living monsters, not the dead, their group could stay here indefinitely. Certainly more charming than the prison, she thinks. He begins to shake his head, but she has his number. "Bring some up to Beth, when you go to see your little sister." The boy now takes the proffered jars eagerly, heads up the stairs.
She lights a few lamps, places them around the darkening room. She looks at Glenn, who's deep in thought. Tyrese and Sasha are standing, arms around each other, by Ben's grave. She hands Glenn a can of baby potatoes, opens one for herself.
"Eat. Zombie slaying burns lots of calories," she pops one in her mouth. "You and me – we'll take first watch?"
Glenn nods. "Don't think you'll be able to sleep either, huh?" She shakes her head. There's a restless tugging at her heart, and she knows where it leads. Somewhere in the direction of Woodbury.
"This place is great, but what do you think they were doing¸ Carol? What's with the tuxes and the ball gowns?" He shakes his head.
She thinks on it, watching Tyrese and Sasha head slowly back to the house, watching the fire from the dead swirl up into the blackening sky.
"Maybe…maybe they just figured, the hell with it. Go out in style, one last hurrah?"
"Dead Man's Ball," Glenn intones blandly. They both look at each other, and start laughing. It's not much. But it's something. Dead Man's Ball, indeed.
