skittletitz - In the world of one track minds...

HGRHfan35 - I think Carol needs a gal pal. She seems so lonely lately.

peonie01 - Thanks for the review. I know it was just a 'filler chapter' as some people may call it, but I like to build up to thinks with the laying of a delicate foundation.

AFishNamedSushi - What is it about army fatigues...like did they design them to make the ass look good? Except on women, the fatigues make women look hippy...

Ms Q - Andrea...ah Andrea...no I actually wish I could have her out and about running around...being walker fodder...I mean...O_o did I say that out loud? Eeps...

Axelrocks - Who wouldn't be charmed by the Lt.? He's a lady killer. ^_^

MollyMayhem84 - I literally gasped. Not to run your relationship, but I'd be looking for someone new...(obviously kidding!). Anyways, I like Lace for a ship name...I think you got that one right.

Anyways, here's an intense little chapter. I tried a different way of writing it for fun...so..I hope it's okay.


Chapter Fifty-Two: Mordre

**Daryl**

"Jesus Christ, there's so fucking many!" Someone shouted.

With his boot gripped in the mouth of a hungry walker, Daryl struggled to scramble back, kicking at the walker's face with his free foot. His crossbow was just out of reach.

Lying in a pool of blood, Daryl struggled to get enough leverage on the concrete floor to get away from the walker attacking him.

"Glenn?!" He called out "Glenn!"

Another pair of hungry hands clamped down on his shoulders and he didn't have much time to react as an ugly, gnashing pair of teeth dropped down, heading for his face.

..-~-..


..-~-..

Half an hour earlier.

**Daryl**

"Are these bolts welded in?" Glenn complained from where he lay on the asphalt under the helicopter. "Because I can't get them loosened."

Keeping an eye out for him, Daryl squinted at the middle distance where a handful of walkers had gathered against the fence where the base was edged in thick woods.

"Put some muscle into it, damn," he replied. "There's some walkers out there and I don't want them to attract anymore with all their bitch assed snarling."

"Well, give me a hand," Glenn snapped back.

Sighing heavily, Daryl shifted on his feet, glancing over to where Rick and Tyreese were getting a missile detached from the Apache with ease. "Get up here then," he growled. "Keep watch."

Sliding out from under the helicopter, Glenn handed off the ratchet with a dark glare.

"Be my guest," he huffed.

Removing his crossbow to get on his back, Daryl squirmed his way under the Apache to get at the missile.

"You see the walkers at the fence?" Maggie asked, joining them with Michonne from the Apache to their left.

"They ain't a threat," Daryl growled, working the bolt. "Just keep an eye on them in case the herd gets any bigger." Carefully dropping the bolt out of the housing for the missile, Daryl moved on to the bolt holding it in place at the head and began working on it. "Where the hell is that dumb assed Cajun and Merle, anyways?" Daryl snapped.

..-~-..


..-~-..

Ten minutes earlier.

**The Lieutenant**

They had been walking the base, heading for the trucks parked near the gate, when the Cajun spied three uggies making their way out of the tall grass of the training area.

"Hey, Merle, see them?" He motioned to the uggies with a jerk of his chin.

"Could have missed them when we were clearing house," Merle said with a shrug. "Wouldn't worry."

The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes at the uggies who were ambling their way towards them at the smell of a fresh meal. "Let's take care of them and walk the fence a ways in that direction, see what's up."

The older Dixon glowered at him. "Ain't worth the trouble, if there was a hole in the fence we'd have known about it by now."

"Should have walked the fence yesterday," the Lieutenant muttered as they headed towards the uggies. "Could be a hole big enough, yeah? I mean, they look like civvies, don't they?"

"From this distance, could be," Merle replied.

Pulling out the combat knife he had taken off a dead Marine, the Lieutenant shouldered his rifle as they approached the hungry uggies.

..-~-..


..-~-..

Fifteen minutes later.

**Daryl**

The stillness of the afternoon was broken by the sudden far off blaring of a car horn and Daryl sat up in defense so quickly, he slammed his head against the undercarriage of the Apache.

As he quickly slid out from under the helicopter, he could hear the far off pop of a gunshot and snatched up his crossbow.

"What the hell is that?" Glenn demanded.

"Where's Merle?" Rick asked, jogging over to them, his pistol out.

"Never mind the old redneck boy," Michonne purred, motioning towards the walkers at the fence who were heading in the direction of the horn. "Where're they heading?"

"Michonne you get the others into HQ and secure the building, Daryl you're with me," Rick commanded.

Nodding, Daryl took off after Rick as he headed in the direction of the horn, just as it ended abruptly.

Moving around the Apache, they found the walkers at the fence moving at a quicker pace now, shuffling as fast as they could in the direction of the fence just beyond the training area behind the hangar.

Glancing back over his shoulder quickly to ensure the others were all heading for HQ, Daryl hurried after Rick, heading towards the hangar.

..-~-..


..-~-..

Thirteen minutes earlier.

**The Lieutenant**

Tucked behind the hangar, behind the tall grass of the training field, they found an area of the fence line where some shrubbery had overgrown the links, blending the ass end of an army jeep into the greenery almost flawlessly. The front end of the jeep had plowed through the fence, just enough that it stuck out on the other side, but not enough to leave a gaping hole. The whole scene was hidden by a little downwards dipping hill and the tall grass that had grown up during the spring.

There was still an uggie caught between the fence and the jeep though, as it struggled to get inside the fence. It got riled up at the sight and smell of them approaching, worming and gnashing its ugly teeth at them, wriggling a rotten tongue out between its retreating lips like an animal.

Ignoring the uggie for a moment, the Lieutenant edged in closer to the jeep, peering into the driver's side.

Inside the corpse was still, head back against the headrest behind it, mouth open.

Raising his rifle, the Lieutenant moved in closer, he could never tell if a corpse was a corpse or an uggie and he didn't want to risk having his face torn off.

Cautiously, he poked the corpse with the business end of his rifle, nudging it.

The thing jerked, then shifted, hand flailing out in front of it hitting the horn.

Leaping back, the Cajun fired a round into the uggie's skull, exploding it at the distance he was, spraying blackened blood and rotting brain everywhere.

The corpse slumped forward onto the steering wheel, keeping the horn blaring annoyingly.

Merle moved forward and struggled to pull the uggie off the wheel, as the Lieutenant moved around to the passenger side of the jeep and using his knife, crammed the blade into the uggie's skull that was struggling there to get out of the jeep, trapped by the seatbelt it wore.

Breaking loose from the fence where it was wedged, the uggie shot straight out for Merle.

The Dixon brother shoved his bladed stump up, catching the uggie under the chin and dropping it brutally onto the ground.

The two men backed away from the fence as a group of uggies on the other side began gathering, shoving and pushing to get in between the fence and the jeep, a couple managed to get in and the Cajun fired on them, dropping one, while Merle used his pistol and dropped another.

Backing away, taking a quick mental head count, the Lieutenant counted about twenty-five uggies and more pouring out of the surrounding area, being called to dinner by the horn they had set off.

As a few uggie corpses got hung up in between the fence and jeep, he had little hope that it would prevent more from spilling in, but as more of them joined the herd and began shoving and pushing, the weakened structure began to sag.

Eyeing the quickly growing numbers of uggies, the Lieutenant winced.

..-~-..


..-~-..

Sixteen minutes later.

**Daryl**

As they approached the corner rounding the hangar, heading for the training field an army green blur and Merle breezed by, heading in the direction of the headquarters' building.

Quickly peeking around the corner, Daryl spied a mass of walkers cresting the top of a hill that lead down towards the fence and pulled back. He really didn't know what he was expecting. In all honesty if running was the plan the Lieutenant and Merle had decided on, he should have just blindly followed.

"Run," he suggested to Rick, heading in the direction that the Lieutenant and Merle were heading.

Taking off after the two, Daryl and Rick scooted into HQ, just inches ahead of the herd.

Spinning around, Daryl slammed his body against the door before it could be edged open by the walkers outside, using every ounce of strength to keep them out.

"What the fucking fuck?" Glenn demanded. "What the hell is going on?"

Pushing against the door at Daryl's side the Lieutenant frowned. "We didn't check the fence line," he pointed out.

"We did." Rick argued.

"We glanced at it, should have walked it," the Cajun replied. "That's my bad, I'll take responsibility for that one."

"What do we do?" Maggie demanded.

"How many are out there?" Tyreese asked.

"Is a fuckton a technical term? Do you Texian's use it often?" The Lieutenant inquired.

"Not really the appropriate time to make jokes, Cajun boy," Michonne snarled.

Pressing back against the door, the Lieutenant sighed. "You're going to feel real bad if I die and you didn't laugh at my last joke, beb."

"No one's dying!" Rick snarled. "Glenn, Maggie get the back door, throw whatever you can in front of it to prevent walkers from getting in that way, we'll just have to make our way to the roof and clear some out from up there."

Standing by the door as it was forced open by the walkers and snapped shut by the men pushing against it, Merle shoved his blade into the crack created now and then, taking out a few walkers calmly.

With his boots sliding on the floor as more walkers pressed against the door, Daryl struggled to find purchase, moving as fast as he could to keep upright against the door.

Beside him the Cajun was using the wall with his boot resting against a nearby fire alarm to give him some leverage.

As more walkers managed to wedge their arms and legs into the crack in the door, Daryl found himself in the middle of a losing battle.

Snapping the alarm off the wall, the Cajun slipped onto his ass into the walker blood that had drained out of the dead Merle had been taking out, the door opening further with only Daryl at it.

"Back off the door," Rick ordered, "head for the tunnel entrance!"

Scrambling to his feet, the Lieutenant barely avoided a snapping jaw, as Daryl held the door long enough for his brother and the Cajun to get out of the way, before he released it.

"Glenn, Maggie! Head for the tunnels!" Rick shouted deeper into the building, hoping he was heard.

Racing down the hall, the door behind them now wide opening and allowing walkers to just pour in, Daryl slid over the concrete, skidding across the floor gracelessly, recovering himself against the wall.

Covering him, the Lieutenant popped off a few shots, taking out the walkers who were getting uncomfortably close on their heels, helping Daryl get his footing without a word as Merle and Michonne sliced at the walkers who the Cajun didn't manage to shoot.

Arriving at the entrance to the tunnels, they found Glenn and Maggie already there, opening the hatch.

Turning, Daryl raised his crossbow and fired the only shot he had time to get off, before pulling the Cajun's combat knife from his belt to give the others time to get down into the tunnels before the walkers over took them.

At his side Merle, Michonne, Rick and the Lieutenant took aim with their weapons and fired as Tyreese helped Maggie into the tunnels. The narrow halls made the walkers come at them in nearly single file, which worked to their benefit, but there was still a holy hell of a lot coming at them.

"Get into the tunnels!" Rick shouted.

Glancing over to see who was getting into safety, he found Rick shoving Michonne and Merle in the direction of the tunnel hatch.

Daryl dropped his crossbow down to load another bolt to give them coverage as a new wave of walkers rounded the corner from the hall into the room, he didn't see the corpse that lunged at him, knocking the crossbow out of his hands. Slipping on walker blood, Daryl fell backwards, the walker on him gripping onto his foot.

Noticing Glenn to his right get knocked forward onto his face by a walker, Daryl struggled to free himself from the walker gnawing at his boot, kicking it in the face.

"Jesus Christ, there's so fucking many!" Tyreese growled.

Kicking at the walker, Daryl struggled to see what became of Glenn as more walkers poured down on them.

Gunshots coming from the tunnel hatch and the walkers on Daryl dropped enough for him to scramble to his feet.

Maggie, Merle and Michonne joined them again from the tunnels, standing at their sides as they cleared walkers enough for Rick and the others to regain their bearings.

"Get into the tunnels!" Rick ordered, growing impatient.

As people struggled to hop down into the tunnel system, not at all worried about breaking ankles, so much as surviving a walker bite, Daryl waited, counting heads as he provided cover with a pistol he pulled from the waistband of his pants. As their group disappeared down the hatch, Daryl scooted down, snatching up his fallen crossbow on his way into the hatch, pulling the lid closed behind him.

He landed at the bottom, breathing heavy, shaking from adrenaline.

"Everyone okay?" Rick demanded.

There was a general positive consensus, except for one voice in the darkness of the tunnels that softly whispered.

"They got me. I think I've been bit."


The Cajun Dialect

Mordre – To bite.