Jewels: I do not own The Walking Dead…

The guys decided that they would walk the prisoners out to the courtyard to show them what was really going on with the outside world, but I stayed behind to go check on things with Hershel.

"It has to stop eventually, right?" I heard Lori ask, "It's slowed down quite a bit."

"If we can get him through this…" Carol started.

"When we get him through this," Lori corrected her.

"We'll need crutches," Carol said.

Lori sighed. "Right now, we could use some antibiotics. Pain killers, some sterile gauze. There's gotta be an infirmary here."

"If there's on, we'll find it," Carol said, "You gotta be worried sick about delivering the baby."

"Look at me, I look worried?" Lori asked, with a slight chuckle.

I stepped in the cell and looked at her. "You look beautifully disgusting," I joked.

She looked at me and frowned before rushing over and inspecting me. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I tried to assure her, looking down at myself, "Ain't my blood." I was covered head to toe with a mixture of walker gunk and Hershel's blood that had gotten on me when we moved him onto the table. I wasn't exactly a pretty sight to behold.

She sighed. "I just…"

"Lori…stop, please," I said, "Just…stop."

"Is everything okay?" Carol asked.

"Its fine," I lied, before Lori could reply.

"Okay…what's going on out there?" she questioned.

"We found survivors…" I replied. I told them about the prisoners and they just stared at me in shock.

"What are they gonna do with them?" Lori asked.

"I ain't gotta clue," I replied, "I came back here to check on Hershel and the guys went and took those boys out to the courtyard to show 'em how much the world really has gone to shit. They've been living in the cafeteria for 10 months…still thought there was a chance that the National Guard or Army could come and save their asses. Thought there might still be cell phones available…it's funny, I always complained to my staff about the kids that I would see come in and sit across from their parents and not be talkin' to 'em, just fiddlin' around with their phones, and now I actually miss mine."

"It's the small things that you start to miss at times like this," Lori agreed.

"Like pizza…I miss pizza, a lot," I said, "Pizza and beer and watching sports. I miss watchin' hockey, and NASCAR…who knew you could miss turning left and going fast so much!"

She let out a laugh. "I used to complain about Rick having the TV up so damn loud during football games. I miss yelling at him to turn the damn TV down."

I looked at her. "You think any of the players out there are still alive?"

"I…never thought about that before," she thought.

"Patrice Bergeron from the Bruins…Sidney Crosby from the Penguins…Dustin Brown from the Kings…Bryce Salvador from the Devils…" I stopped and looked at her and she was giving me this confused looked, "My hockey teams must have survived!"

"What about hockey?" Daryl asked, walking into the cell making me jump.

"She's worried none of her favorite players survived," Lori replied with a chuckle.

"That's all right," he said, with a grin, "I've still got more than they could ever hope for."

I looked down at the front of his pants and then back up. "You never really can tell with all that padding that they wear," I joked.

"That ain't even cool," he said.

Lori laughed.

"Yo, food's here!" T-Dog yelled.

We walked out to where the "eating area" and saw a whole bunch of food being loaded onto the table. "Damn…" I said, looking at more food than we had really had in the past few months.

"What you got?" Carol asked.

"Canned beef, canned corn, canned cans!" T-Dog said, "There's a lot more where this came from in one of the cells."

I looked at all the food and saw a big sack of instant mashed potatoes. "I'll fix dinner tonight."

"What you got in mind, chef?" T-Dog asked.

"Corn chowder," I replied.

"Mmm," he hummed, "That sounds delicious."

"Haven't made it with instant potatoes before, but it'll taste fine just the same, I'm sure," I said, "Were there spices in the cafeteria at all?"

"Some…" he replied, "What me to get some of 'em?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," I replied.

"Yes, chef," he said.

"Living beside each other?!" I heard Lori asked, and I looked over to see her staring at Rick in disbelief.

"I'm not giving up this prison," Rick tried to assure her.

"Do they have guns?"

"Only saw one. I don't know if it's gonna work…"

"Well, what are your options?"

"Kill 'em."

"If that's what you think is best."

Rick gave a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Look, I know that I'm a shitty wife, and I'm not winning any "mother of the year" awards, but I need toy to know that not for one second do I think there's malice in your heart," she said, "You're not a killer, and I know that. I know that so…so do whatever you gotta do to keep this group safe, and do it with a clear conscience."

Rick nodded and looked at me. "I'm putting you in charge of the food."

"That's perfectly fine with me," I agreed. He left and Lori sat down on one of the benches. "He'll figure somethin' out…"

"I know…" she agreed, "What do you think they should do?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"With the prisoners," she replied, "They're gonna give them their own cell block and they're gonna have to fend for themselves, but I'm still not comfortable with them being here…what do you think they should do?"

"Find the warden's log book," I replied, shorty.

"What?"

"In the warden's office, there are all the files of all the inmates. But the warden also keeps a quick reference log book so that when he or she has to speak with an inmate they don't have to go searchin' for the files. They can just flip to the inmate's page and get the quick information like their age and what they're in for and all that shit. I would find the warden's office, see if the log book is still intact, get the inmate's names and see what they were in for."

"To see if they're dangerous or not?"

"Yeah…there's a big difference between possession of narcotics and murder," I said.

"Would that make a difference as to whether they could stay or not?" she questioned.

"One of those guys…I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. Another one, he just seems like he doesn't like fighting, and the others were worried about their moms, old ladies, and kids…" I said, "I would rather know what they did."

"Your dad was…"

"I know Lori!" I snapped, "And the man died in prison…and if he hadn't and had been one of the guys in that cafeteria, I would have killed him myself!"

"Jewels…"

"I'm sorry…but prison isn't just a place that men go to rot, sometimes it is a wake up call…sometimes it is a revolvin' door. You never know, maybe a couple of those guys could be useful…they probably had jobs before prison and had prison jobs. But I would want to know what they did before I pass judgment myself."

"Unlike with Randall…"

"We'll never know what that kid really did," I said, thinking about how hard Dale fought to keep that kid alive, "I know he was guilty of something, but unlike here in this prison, there was no proof."

"I get it," she said.

"Here's the spices you asked for," T-Dog said, coming back in the room and dropping the spices on the table.

"Thanks," I said, "We'll have to get the fire wood and cookin' utensils up here."

"I'm going to go check on Hershel again," Lori said.

"All right," I replied.

"We're gonna get the cars up here later, so we'll have the all the stuff you'll need up here," T-Dog said.

I laughed. "Oh you have no idea…I never imagined myself doing this kind of cookin' outside of campin' and even then I had…" I picked up the bag of instant mashed potatoes. "Fresh ingredients."

"Spooooooooooiled," he joked.

"Kinda…" I agreed thinking about the colorful fruits and veggies that used to fill my kitchen.

Just then Carl ran by holding a bag.

"Looks like the kid went off by himself again," T-Dog commented.

"Looks like…" I agreed. There was some yelling from the cells and soon Carl came back into view. "By the way where did the others go?"

"They took the prisoners to go clear another cell block for them," he replied, "Daryl asked me to stay behind and help you out with getting anything from the cafeteria. He knows you to well and said you would run off and try to get everything yourself."

"Yeah, probably," I agreed.

"Do something!" Beth suddenly yelled, "Somebody help! Somebody! Please, help!"

We ran to the cells and saw that Lori was now standing over him doing CPR. "Come on! Come on!" she said.

Hershel suddenly grabbed her and Maggie pulled her away. Thankfully he had started breathing again and woken up for a split second before passing back out, but he was breathing normally.

I looked and saw that Carl had his gun pointed at Hershel, ready for the worst and I reached out and patted his shoulder. "It's good now." That's all I said to him before heading back over to the food and beginning to organize it. Canned goods, bagged goods, dry goods, spices, and even some dehydrated goods. It was a good mix of items and it would last of for a while.

"Food, glorious food," I sang, setting a can of corn next to me.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Jewels: Yeah, I didn't exactly follow the storyline in this chap, but you do what ya gotta do. So I hope you liked it anyway :) also I want to note that I have no idea what a warden actually does except for run the prison. But a log book sounds like a nifty idea if I do say so myself.