S1E4P3

The stand-off was intense, making it all the more jarring when a little old lady ambled into the fray calling for Felipe.

"Abuela." Felipe said, looking warily between her and us. "Go back with the others now."

"Get that old lady out of the line of fire!"Daryl yelled.

"Abuela, listen to your mijo, okay? This is not the place for you right now." Guillermo said.

I was already lowering my gun, frowning at the whole situation.

"Mr. Gilbert is having trouble breathing. He needs his asthma stuff. Carlitos didn't find it. He needs his medicine." The old lady said, unaware of the tense situation she had walked into.

"Felipe, go take care of it, okay? And take your grandmother with you."

Felipe spoke to his grandmother, trying to get her to leave, but she noticed us and frowned.

"Who are these people?" She asked.

Felipe tried to get her to leave but she pushed forward, walking right up to Rick who lowered his gun.

"Don't take him." She begged.

Rick exchanged a confused look with me.

"Ma'am?"

"Felipe's a good boy. He has his trouble but he pulls himself together. We need him here."

Rick blinked.

"Ma'am, I'm not here to arrest your grandson."

"Then what do you want him for?"

"He's…helping us find a missing person. Fella named Glenn."

"The Asian boy?" Abuela smiled. "He's with Mr. Gilbert. Come, I'll show you."

She took Ricks hand and took him into the group of Vatos. I lowered my gun and followed, T-Dog and Daryl close behind.

"Let them pass." Guillermo sighed.

Abuela led us into a different building filled with elderly people and medical equipment. Eventually we came to a gymnasium where several people were crowded around a man struggling to breathe, including Glenn. Felipe moved forward and helped the old man with an inhaler.

"Nice and easy." He said. "Just breathe. Just relax."

Rick turned to Glenn.

"What the hell is this?" He said.

"Asthma attack. Couldn't get his breath all of a sudden." Glenn said, as if that was what we were referring to. I walked over to him and smacked him on the arm.

"Ow!" He said, frowning at me.

"We thought they were killing you." I said.

"Yeah, we thought you were being eaten by dogs man!" T-Dog yelled. Glenn looked behind him, where three Chihuahuas sat in a dog bed.

"Jesus Christ." I said, rubbing my head.

"Sorry." Glenn mumbled.

"Could I have a word with you?" Rick said, guiding Guillermo aside. After patting Glenn on the shoulder I followed. "You are the dumbest son of a bitch I ever met. We walked in there ready to kill every last one of you."

"Well, I'm glad it didn't go down that way." Guillermo admitted.

"If it had, that blood would have been on my hands." Rick growled.

"Mine too. We'd have fought back. Wouldn't be the first time we've had to. Protect the food, the medicine…what's left of it. These people, the old ones…the staff took off, just left them here to die. Me and Felipe were the only ones who stayed."

"What are you, doctors?"

"Felipe's a nurse…a special care provider. Me, I'm the custodian."

Guillermo took us away from the others so we could talk. It looked like the lunch room of what the building used to be.

"What about the rest of your crew?" Rick asked.

"The Vatos trickle in to check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It's a good thing too. We need the muscle. The people we've encountered since things fell apart, the worst kind…plunderers, the kind that take by force."

"That's not who we are." Rick said.

"How was I to know? My people got attacked and you show up with Miguel hostage…appearances."

"Guess the world changed." T-Dog sighed. I leaned against the wall beside him and pinched the bridge of my nose. The last two days had been insane. I almost longed for the boring monotony of walking the roads alone. Almost.

"No." Guillermo said, leaning around Rick to look at T-Dog. "It's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken. So we do what we can here. The Vatos work on those cars, talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves so that's a dream. Still, it keeps the crew busy, and that's worth something."

Guillermo gestured to the windows which had planks of wood nailed over them.

"So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut except one entrance. The Vatos, they go out, scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day and we wait."

Glenn nudged my shoulder and I smiled at him. Perhaps I looked as tired as I felt.

"The people here, they all look to me now. I don't even know why."

"Because they can." Rick said, handing him his shotgun. He then unzipped the bag and began taking out some of the weapons for him. I said nothing, none of us did. It seemed even Daryl was okay with the decision.

We left them like that and returned to the train tracks, ready to leave Atlanta at last. I wouldn't be disappointed if I never saw the city again.

"Admit it," Glenn said. "You only came back to Atlanta for the hat."

"Don't tell anybody."

I chuckled.

"You've given away half our guns and ammo." Daryl said.

"Not nearly half." Rick protested.

"For what? Bunch of old farts who are going to die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously, how long you think they got?"

Okay, so Daryl wasn't okay with the decision, but he'd waited till now to complain about it. I reckoned he was only annoyed at losing the guns, not about who they went to.

"How long do any of us." Rick said, giving us a morbidly relevant truth. We were distracted from it when we realised something was missing.

"Oh my god." Glenn said.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl yelled, storming into the place where it had been.

"We left it right there. Who would take it?" Glenn said.

"Merle." Rick and I said at the same time.

Daryl looked back at us.

"He's going to be taking some vengeance back to camp."

Rick's expression shifted to one of concern and he started running the way we had come by truck. Adjusting my straps, thankful I no longer had a shotgun, we started running back to the camp.

By the time we got near, the sun had set and my legs were burning. I was going to feel this the next day. As we got closer, we heard a gunshot and stumbled before pelting full-speed through the forest.

Gunshots and screams echoed up to us and fear sliced through me. The camp was being attacked and God knows who was already hurt. I drew my Buretta in one hand, the dagger in the other as we jumped into the clearing.

Walkers were everywhere and I paid no heed to noise as I fired my gun. My aim was good, and two out of three shots were kill shots. Unfortunately my gun was out of ammo before the undead were back to being dead.

"Carl!" Rick cried. I turned to see the boy race away from his mother and towards his dad. A walker lunged at him and I grabbed Carls' arm swinging him out of the way and plunging the dagger into the walker. Unfortunately, I missed the head and it continued to snap at me.

I didn't get to see if Carl was okay as the walker took me down, its weight crushing me as I pushed against its chest which was slippery with blood. My heart was pounding and I shrieked as it clawed at my arms, luckily clad in too much material for it to pierce skin.

The walkers head exploded to my right and it fell limp, someone kicking it off of me and reaching to pull me up. It was Rick, his face white. Carl clung to his side with tears streaming down his face.

The gunshots slowed, then stopped and the clearing fell silent aside from the sobs of children. Shaking, I bent down to pull my dagger from the walkers chest. The blade quivered in my grip. I swallowed and took deep breaths to calm my nerves but it didn't work. Other cries caught my ears and I looked up to find Andrea shaking a bloodied Amy. It felt like my chest had caved in to see such sadness and before I knew it tears were streaming down my face.

"I remember my dream now," Jim said. "Why I dug the holes."

I didn't know what he was talking about, but it didn't take a genius to understand what he meant.