3rd Person POV
Eve rolled onto her side and hid her eyes from the light in Daryl's shoulder.
Daryl looked at her and tried not to move too much, keeping her eyes hidden so she can rest.
Eventually her breaths evened out and he risked shifting a little to check if she was still awake. He moved some of her hair off the side of her neck and let her sleep; trying to get a little rest himself. They've still got other stuff to do today.
A few hours passed before Rick decided they're gonna go farther in and Daryl put his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her.
Eve wasn't really asleep anymore, she was already in that pseudo-awake phase just before actual consciousness but like when you're just aware enough to refuse to wake up.
Daryl shook her again and she groaned, not wanting to get up. What good is the apocalypse if you can't sleep in? But eventually she cracked her eyes and rolled off the bed instead of getting up, almost rolling herself straight down the staircase if Daryl hadn't been standing there to stop her with his knees.
Eve finally got up, refusing to open her eyes all the way as they went downstairs to the room outside the cell block and geared up.
People were talking but Eve wasn't really listening as she fixed her arms up with some of the riot gear padding. She doesn't really need anything for protection other than arms and chest. It's always good to have some more armor on her arms and hands because they got into 'danger zones' a lot.
The one thing she did catch was Daryl saying "I ain't wearin' this shit." as he picked up a riot helmet and a piece of slimy scalp dropped out like a cracked egg.
Eve's stomach rolled and she cleared her throat to avoid gagging.
Carol came out to call Hershel back in for a minute, probably for Lori's checkup.
After we all finished putting on our new fancy~ accessories. We headed for the locked door that should lead to the rest of the cell blocks, deeper into the prison.
Thankfully nothing and no one greeted us, but it's so dark down here you wouldn't be able to tell if it was night or die.
Daryl, Rick and I went first with Glenn, Maggie, T-dog, and Hershel covering behind us marking our path with spray paint arrows so we don't get lost — which would be all too easy.
It's disturbingly quiet down here and smells like roadkill in a meat locker without power.
Unlike the others Eve pointed her flashlight at the ceiling, letting the light bounce off and put the whole corridor into a dim light instead of being able to see a single spot really well. The others however, continued to aim their lights normally.
Eve's POV
The hallways are confusing but so far so good.
I turned a corner and gasped. 'I spoke too soon.'
"Go back! Go! Move!"Rick raised his voice as walkers stumbled towards us. Too many for us to take in this narrow hallway.
I don't know who is where as we ran like rats in a maze, trying not to trip on decomposing bodies.
It was a blur of adrenaline and shouts right up until I ducked into a side room and everyone else came in behind me, and Daryl helped me pull it shut.
All of us ducking down to avoid being seen.
"Wait, where's Glenn and Maggie?" Rick whispered urgently as I watched outside the grate on the double doors.
"We have to go back." Hershel whispered back immediately.
"Which way?" Daryl asked and I felt eyes on the back of my head.
I pointed back the way we came, apparently having been the only one of us who wasn't just blindly running. I don't make a habit of doing that. I have a good sense for retracing my own steps.
I nodded at Rick and opened the door as soon as they were all ready to go again.
I lead the way, going back the way we came while I retraced my path in my head.
"Glenn? Maggie?" I can't tell who whispered but it's low enough that we should be ok so long as we keep moving.
They have to be somewhere along this path or we'll never be able to find them down here like this. Glenn's as smart as I am under these circumstances. He would know better than to stray too far off path unless forced.
I'd bet you two stinky squirrels Glenn would have even headed back to the cell block vs going deeper if he could help it.
Staple rule of getting lost: Go back to mutually familiar territory or a preset rendezvous location.
My entire body jolted as a nightmarish scream pierced the halls and before I knew it, all of us were running back around the corner we had just rounded and my heart stopped cold for a solid second.
A gunshot from Rick's python rang my ears and the walker on the ground that had grabbed Hershel's ankle and taken a chunk out of his calf, sagged.
Maggie and Glenn slid around the other corner not half a second later.
"No!" Maggie cried and I burst forward seeing the movement behind her.
Daryl was right next to me as shouting filled the catacombs.
"Rick we're blocked!" T shouted as walkers spilled at the end of the way we just came from.
"Lead the way!" Daryl shouted at me and I didn't argue, getting to the front as fast as I could.
Knives up, I ran ahead with Maggie at the front behind me and the rest clamoring to follow while T & Daryl covered the back against the walkers storming after us like a flood. Glenn & Rick dragged Hershel, the air filled with Hershel's pained screams and Rick's orders. It's like a war zone.
Almost immediately I found a set of doors at the end of the hall we've been chased down, and a pair of handcuffs gleaming like an interact-able lock in a video-game.
"Open the door! Open the door!"
I pulled my gun to shoot it but T-Dog beat me to it with whatever the Hell he's carrying.
The locks busted off and we fell into the room like a dam break.
As soon as we were in Rick shouted, "Shut the door!" and T-Dog & Daryl slammed it shut.
The chaos didn't stop there. It lessened only enough for me to actually hear over Hershel's wails.
"Have you got it?!" Rick shouted while T and Daryl held the doors closed, struggling to get a fireplace poker through the handles and create a better lock than just their backs against the doors.
I dropped to Hershel's side, ripping Hershel's pants with my knife like a surgical assistant.
"Hold him down." Rick ordered as Maggie cried and Glenn & I scrambled to do what we can in the most organized way I've ever seen. The emotional centers of my brain shut down a while ago, as soon as survival became a top priority.
"There's only one way to keep you alive." Rick took his belt off and picked up the axe.
I grabbed his belt and slid it under Hershel's leg, Rick pulled it tight and finished the tourniquet while I shelled off my own jacket and folded the sleeve as fast as my hands could, until it was so thick you wouldn't be able to punch a hole in it without industrial tools, and then shoved it into Hershel's mouth to protect his tongue from his teeth.
I put all my weight on Hershel's leg as Glenn held down Hershel's other side — joined by Daryl not a second later; leaving T to hold the now secured door.
I barely flinched as Rick brought the axe down and the blood splattered my fingers until he'd gotten all the way through the bone and Hershel's screaming abruptly stopped. All the noise stopped.
"Hoooo..." Rick half stood, processing what he'd just done but it didn't phase him for long and me even less so.
"He's bleedin' out." Rick declared as he came back, right as I snatched the towel from Glenn's hands — where did he find this? — and pressed it against Hershel's leg.
Something rattled behind me and as soon as I looked up to turn, I caught eyes with Daryl. "Duck."
Rick and I both dropped, I practically laid on Hershel's leg, keeping the pressure hard as Daryl stood with his crossbow loaded and aiming behind us.
I stayed down until he moved around us without shooting and as soon as I looked, my eyes widened at the several people — living people behind a lunch serving counter with a grate over it.
"Who the Hell are you?" Daryl growled.
"Who the Hell are you?" They demanded back.
"He's bleedin' out we gotta go back." Rick brought my attention back to Hershel who's more important right now.
"Come around here— put pressure on the knee. Hard hard. Push push." Rick got Glenn to replace me and as soon as I was free, I was on my feet staring down the barrel of my gun beside Daryl.
"Why don't you come on outta there. Slow and steady." Daryl ordered and they did as told, one by one the startled men in prison uniforms came out where we can see them.
"What happened to him?" the first looked past us at Hershel. Everything about this guy screams gangster. He looks like an actor playing a low-level Mexican cartel boss in a cop TV series.
"He got bit." Daryl answered.
"Bit?" He pulled a small black revolver out of the front of his waistband and I cocked the hammer on my gun as a threat.
"Whoa — whoa — whoa. Easy now." Daryl's a lot nicer than me, warning him.
Someone else behind us also cocked their gun; I'm gonna guess T seeing as the others are a bit busy.
The gangster waved his gun back and forth between all 3 of us and I grit my teeth. That behavior putting me on edge — only people who aren't adept in combat can't settle on a target like that. That makes him dangerous.
We need to leave, or get that gun from him before someone gets shot. Even if we have to shoot him.
"You have medical supplies?" Glenn walked right past them, no f***'s given straight into the back area where they were hiding, completely ignoring the biggest prisoner — who caught my attention immediately — who said, "Whooooa, where do you think you're goin?"
The door rattled, the growling outside it coming back that I just noticed had stopped at all, and all of the prisoners looked fearfully at the doors.
"Who the Hell are you people anyway?" asked, pointing the gun at me but as soon as he locked eyes with me, staring down the barrel of my gun, his piece finally found a target.
I watched his eyelids skitter, unable to decide whether he should blink or not, trying to hold my gaze but too concerned about the rest of the room to do so.
"Don't look like no rescue team." A blonde guy behind him who looks like he belongs in a woodsy low-population town spoke.
"Rescue team 's what yer waiting for, don't." Rick answered as crashes in the back drew their attention again and Glenn came out in a hurry with a metal wheeling table meant for food prep.
"Come on we gotta go! Now come on— Eve get the doors!" As soon as Rick ordered it, I took my eyes off them, running for the doors as I stowed my weapon; quickly flicking the safety back on.
I yanked my knives, spinning them into my grip and stood at the ready while T grabbed his fire poker from the handles.
"Are you crazy don't open that!" an unfamiliar voice called.
"Yo we got this." T-dog answered him.
I nodded at him and the second the door yanked open I identified 3 walkers. The one in riot gear stumbled in first and T tackled it against the other door.
I flew past him and kicked center-mass, forcing both walkers backwards and out of the way before sinking both knives into two soft skulls one right after the other.
I ran ahead, making sure the path is clear for the make-shift gurney.
I lead the way, breathing hard and almost forgot I need a flashlight to see, which Maggie threw at me as soon as they got out and were following.
She kicked body parts out of the way as I made sure we're not gonna run straight into a pack of walkers and all go down.
"Keys!" I called as soon as I saw the door to the cell block up ahead.
Maggie ran to me and got the gate open just as they got to us.
I got inside and got out of the way quick, taking the keys from Maggie so she can be with her father.
Daryl swung around me, putting one leg up on the mess table next to me as he reloaded his crossbow, while T ducked behind the stone pillar supporting the inner guard tower of this first room.
"Gun." Daryl didn't need to say more than a word before I stowed and switched out my weapon again, flicking the safety off. I was being kind with the threat earlier. There won't be a warning this time; not this close to the rest of the group — especially not with Beth, Carl, Lori, and now an legless Hershel inside. I will gun these guys down without blinking before they set foot anywhere near that cell block.
I knew there wouldn't be but there's not enough time to close the gate before the first prisoner, , peeks his face through the darkness into the light.
All of them slowly came into the room in a near-perfect line, so we can see them all. If they were clustered up it would be a problem.
"That's far enough." Daryl
"Cell block C. Cell 4— that's mine, gringo. Let me in." If he actually thought that would work in the slightest, he's dumb enough to actually be a threat.
"Today's your lucky day fellas. You been pardoned by the state of Georgia, you're free to go." Daryl quipped, following him with his crossbow while I aimed at the next biggest threat; the big guy.
"What'cha got goin' on in there?" 's "curiosity" is about to earn him a last meal.
"Ain't none a yer concern." Daryl denied.
"Don't you be tellin' me what's my concern." the guy pulled his gun out again. Which just screams prison-posturing but news flash pal, I'm a heartbeat away from shooting that piece out of your hand just to put that attitude in check. And I absolutely would have, if the biggest guy didn't speak up.
"Chill man. Dude's leg is messed up, besides we free now. Why are we still in here?" Big guy might actually not be that bad. He looks big but… no matter how I look at him, I'm not getting any sort of threatening feeling from him at all —the opposite actually.
He's gotta be like 6'4 and looks like he could hold his own but it's like 'gentle giant' vibes over there. I don't know how else to put it, but it's like he would rather just chill and maybe play basketball than fight someone. What's a guy like him doing in prison?
The skinny shorter African american guy behind looks more aggressive. And for some reason he reminds me of G's "man eating" rat dogs.
"Man's got a point." Daryl commented.
"Ye, I gotta check on my old lady." the second biggest dude, also an African american man — about a foot shorter from the other guy — spoke up. He doesn't have a super threatening vibe either, neither does Blondie (who looks like a 3 musketeer now that he's in the light and I've gotten a better look at him).
What's with this? It's like only these front two guys even give a shit about us.
They're all acting like they don't believe we'll shoot them right here without a second thought.
"A group of civilians breaking into a prison they got no business bein' in? Got me thinkin' there ain't no place for us to go."
"Why don't you go find out." Daryl shifted a little closer. I can see his hand squeezing the bow. His tolerance for this is running out.
"Maybe we'll just be goin' now." Blondie said and immediately cut him off.
"Hey we ain't leavin'."
"You ain't comin' in neither." T-Dog came out of hiding, gun cocked.
"This is my house, my rules, I go where I damn well please."
This is devolving. Rick, where are you. We could really use a mediator right about now.
Daryl and started arguing back and forth and I'm honestly at a loss for what to do. If things keep escalating someone's gonna get shot—
An idea popped into my head and I slowly started taking steps to the side; drifting away from Daryl to an angle where I can shoot this gun out of the prisoner's hand.
We have the advantage here. These men are stupid for not seeing it. We don't need to negotiate here. There's no instance of this where they could win against us.
"I ain't gonna tell you again!" Daryl, don't engage with him.
It seems not all of them are stupid. The less-threatening guys seemed to notice me and started backing away a little. I made eye-contact with them just for intimidation sake. If shit goes down, I'd rather have to fight kill as few as possible at any one time. And I'd rather take down the two in the front first without trouble.
"Don't take another step." Daryl warned who hasn't even noticed me, but his little shark beside him finally did and I watched his throat bob as he suddenly locked eyes with me; clearly not expecting to.
"I'm gettin' tired of yer mouth." Daryl growled, and I can hear his temper about to snap.
"Then why don't you come over here and shut it!" shouted at him.
"Hey hey hey—!" Rick suddenly came around the corner behind Daryl. "Everybody relax. There's no need for this."
Oh thank god, Officer friendly here to save the day.
"How many of you in there?" jabbed his gun towards the entrance of the cell block.
"Too many for you to handle." Rick didn't miss a beat.
I know he sees me but hasn't looked at me directly on purpose. Better for us if this guy doesn't realize he's in check.
"You guys rob a bank or something? Why don't you take him to a hospital?"
…
I'm sorry, what?
What did he just say?
I shared looks with T, Daryl, and Rick.
"How long you been locked in that cafeteria?" Rick asked ... delicately.
's eyes shifted between him and Daryl, his grip on the gun readjusting. "Goin' on like 10 months."
10 months?
You mean… no. These guys have been here all this time? Right from the beginning?
So they — oh my god. They. don't. know.
"Riot broke out. Never seen anything like it." The big guy shook his head.
"Attica on speed, man." I have no idea what that means Blondie.
"Ever heard about dudes goin' cannibal? Dyin', comin' back to life. Crazy."
Hmmm… nah. Doesn't ring a bell.
"One guard looked out for us, locked us up in the cafeteria. Told us to sit tight, threw me this piece said he'd be right back."
Something tells me he gave the gun to someone else and you decided it was yours.
"Yeah, that was 292 days ago."
"94 according to my count—"
"Shut up!" cut Blondie off.
"We been thinkin' the army or the national guard should be showin' up any day now."
Ohhhhhh if only that were true.
"There is no army." Rick broke the news.
"What do you mean?"
"There's no government," Rick shook his head. "No hospitals, no police. ...It's all gone."
"...For real?" Blondie asked.
"Serious." Rick nodded.
"What about my moms?"
Wait what? Did he say moms? Ohhhhh, that would explain a few things.
"And my kids? And my old lady? Y—yo, you got a cellphone or something that we can call our families?" 2nd biggest guy stepped forward but I didn't aim at him because it wasn't threatening.
"You just don't get it, do you?" Daryl stepped closer my direction.
"No phones, no computers." Rick answered before another fight could start. "As far as we can see at least half the population's been wiped out. Probably more."
Way more. If even a 3rd of the population was left we'd be running into survivors more often. The military would probably still have significant presence as well. The government is — was — incredibly well protected. If even they were overrun well… those who have survived are only those who have the most luck.
I watched their faces as they all processed this.
"Ain't no way." looked at them in disbelief.
Dude if this was a joke, would we seriously be here right now?
"See for yourself." Rick used his bloody machete to gesture towards the door behind me.
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