MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Cornered

It'd been a week since we started living at the prison. It was safe and secure, which was odd to think about. Even the safe places we'd stayed in had their own dangers, but not the prison. The doors were either thick metal or made of bars, the walls were cement. Any Walkers that did get in had other obstacles.

Carl and I had been in the courtyard alone. It was nice not to need any kind of supervision for a while. Maggie, Lori, and some others were in the cell block taking care of Hershel or something else. Rick, Daryl, and the rest were far out in the yard, clearing the bodies out. It was hard to keep track of what everyone was doing at once.

While some of the group was exploring and securing the prison, they'd come across the gym, which had a few Walkers trapped inside but mostly only bodies. Some guessed that the prisoners were hiding in there when it all started. They'd taken the Walkers out but hadn't cleaned it out yet. There were some sports supplies but they didn't want to bother going through everything until they had a chance to properly clear out the room and clean everything.

T-Dog grabbed a basketball that day and cleaned off all the dust and dirt to give to me and Carl. The ball was slightly deflated so we could really only kick and toss it around. There were some basketball nets built into the side of the buildings in the courtyard, which were really only metal hoops, no netting. Carl told me it was for the prisoners to get exercise and fresh air.

I was repeatedly kicking the ball into the wall as I waited for Carl, he'd run inside for some reason I didn't listen to. I sighed when one of my kicks put a small dent into the ball. I hoped T-Dog would keep his word and search around for a pump, he'd mentioned there was a possibility of one hiding in the gym.

I furrowed my eyebrows as shadows stretched across the concrete next to me. I whirled around just as an unfamiliar voice hit my ears.

"Well, hi."

I stepped back, feeling a strong sense of nervousness and caution come over me. One of the prison survivors was standing a few feet away, smiling with his arms crossed. My eyes were drawn to his large mustache which was twirled at the end, I felt overwhelmed with the urge to cut it.

"Axel, we're not out here to bother a little girl."

I briefly glanced at the taller prisoner behind him, his head was bald and his skin was dark like T-Dog's. I'd seen the two of them a few times but from far away.

"I was just saying hi," Axel defended. "Maybe she can tell us where Rick is at."

"You're creeping her out, let's go."

I'd been barely listening to them speak. I had to guess that the tall guy was talking about the obvious disdain on my face, I was so distracted by the mustache I didn't bother hiding it.

"Toby!" An angry voice called out.

Peering past the prisoners, I saw Daryl with Rick, some others following behind them. Daryl was walking in long, quick strides past the fence into the courtyard. I made my way around the men before breaking into a jog to get to Daryl.

"The hell was that?" He asked me when I got to him. "You know better than to talk to them."

"I didn't say nothin'!" I defended, worried I was in trouble. Guillermo, Maggie, and Glenn were walking closer, curious about the commotion.

I saw Rick put a hand over his gun holster, "that's close enough. What's going on here?"

I turned around to the prisoners who had caught up with me.

"We didn't mean no harm, we were just looking for you." Axel attempted to explain.

"Well, you found me. We had an agreement."

"Please, mister. We know that. We made a deal. But you've gotta understand . . . we can't live in that place another minute. You follow me? All the bodies—people we knew. Blood, brains everywhere. There's ghosts."

Blood, brains, sure it was gross but I didn't understand why they didn't just clean it. Ever since the Walkers showed up, all we ever saw was blood and brains. You had to get over it at some point.

"Why don't you move the bodies out?" Daryl questioned.

T-Dog took a step forward. "You should be burning them."

"We tried. We did." Axel responded, moving his hands a lot as he spoke. I was still staring at the mustache.

Tall Guy stepped closer, which caused Daryl to do the same, blocking my view of them. "The fence is down on the far side of the prison. Every time we drag a body out, those things just line up. Dropping the body and just running back inside."

"Look, we had nothing to do with Thomas and Andrew. Nothing. You trying to prove a point? You proved it, bro. We'll do whatever it takes to be part of your group. Just, please, please. Don't make us live in that place." Axel continued to plead. I glanced away when I heard Maggie sigh, I saw her look at Glenn and shake her head.

Part of me felt bad, the other part of me recalled when we were attacked back in Carnesville. Living here was working because we were alone, the farm worked like that too until Randall showed up, then everything went downhill. Seeing how Maggie and Daryl were against this, I decided I was too.

Rick agreed with them, "our deal is not negotiable. You either live in your cell block, or you leave."

Tall Guy sighed and nudged Axel. "I told you this was a waste of time. They ain't no different than the pricks who shot up our boys. You know how many friends' corpses we had to drag out this week? Just threw 'em out, like . . . These were good guys. Good guys who had our backs against the really bad dudes in the joint, like Thomas and Andrew. We've all made mistakes to get in here, chief. And I'm not gonna pretend to be a saint, but believe me. . . we've paid our due—enough that we would rather hit that road than to go back into that shithole."

A long stretch of silence followed after. Rick looked around at the others, contemplating. Daryl shook his head at him, then he made his decision.

T-Dog, Rick, and Daryl walked with the prisoners behind me as I stayed beside Maggie. Guillermo wasn't too far behind us, trailing at the back of the group. Maggie had her arm around me the entire walk down the yard until we made it to the overturned bus by the gate. The contact felt awkward, but I put up with it, noticing how often she was checking on Axel and Oscar, as I'd heard his name a few moments after.

I watched as Daryl closed the gate behind the prisoners, before locking them out of the yard.

"I think we're making a mistake, they could be good to have around," T-Dog said while leaning against the side of the bus.

Rick heard what he said just as he got close, tilting his head while narrowing his eyes at T-Dog. "Are you serious? You want them living in a cell next to you? They'll just be waiting for a chance to grab our weapons. You want to go back to sleeping with one eye open?"

"I never stopped. Bring them into the fold. If we send them off packing, we might as well execute them ourselves."

Guillermo shook his head. "I welcomed a stranger into my home. My people were gunned down, and everything was taken from us. And he was only visiting."

Glenn was the next to speak. "He's right, and Axel seems a little unstable."

"It's just been us for so long. They're strangers. I don't—" Maggie cut herself off, glancing at me before crossing her arms. "It feels weird all of a sudden to have other people around."

I understood what she was saying, after a week I was still getting used to seeing Maggie again. I enjoyed speaking with her and being around her, but I didn't know how to act around the rest of her family.

"You brought us in." T-Dog pointed out.

"Yeah, but you turned up with a shot girl in your arms. Didn't give us a choice."

"They can't even kill Walkers." Glenn said.

"What about Tyreese and Sasha?" T-Dog continued desperately. "You let them join the group, and nothing bad happened then."

Rick didn't seem to care, "They weren't convicts, they didn't try to kill any of us."

"We have kids here, we can't put them at risk," Maggie gestured at me.

I took a step back, finally realizing this was a conversion I wasn't supposed to be hearing. Leave me out of it, don't do this to me. Shit, now they're looking at me.

"Exactly," T-Dog's hand flew out in exasperation, "and what example are we setting for them, tossing these guys out on their asses? Those two might actually have less blood on their hands than we do."

I think I need to leave now, I glanced toward the courtyard, wondering if Carl was ever going to come back out.

Daryl finally spoke up, starting slowly. "I get guys like this. Hell, I grew up with them. They're degenerates, but they ain't psychos. I could have been with them just as easy as I am out here with you guys."

"So are you with me?" T-Dog looked relieved, only for a second.

"Hell, no. Let 'em take their chances out on the road just like we did."

I backed away again before turning away. I put some distance between me and them, not wanting to hear the bickering any longer. Without noticing, I put myself between the fence and the group. The prisoners looked at me as if expecting something. I moved my eyes downward, pretending not to notice.

"Don't talk to 'em," Daryl mumbled quietly beside me when they finished. He unlocked the gate and walked through. I followed him and obeyed, not that I planned on speaking to the prisoners,

I followed Daryl to his bike and he motioned for me to hop on. Again, I obeyed, although confused.

"Twin cylinder. Is that a Triumph?" Axel asked, drawing my attention to his mustache.

"Don't even look at it," Daryl grumbled.

"Didn't want it bored out?" Axel pushed on as Daryl started the bike. "Sounds like it could use a tune-up. I'm pretty handy with the grind. Heads are leakin'. I know my bikes!" Axel shouted the last part over the engine.

"Man, will you just stop?" Oscar said, looking just as annoyed as Daryl. "Have some balls."

"Just sayin'."

My eyes briefly met Oscar's, he gave me a small nod and a smile before the bike lurched forward.

Daryl drove the bike up to the courtyard. "Thought I saw ya with Carl?" He asked me after cutting the engine.

I climbed off, "he went inside. I didn't know those guys were out here."

"Don't gotta worry 'bout 'em anymore. Gonna give 'em a week's worth of supplies, send them on their way."

"Oh." I felt a bit better knowing they wouldn't be around, but I also felt bad, maybe a bit guilty.

Daryl waved a hand back at the prison. "Why don't ya go keep yourself busy, for now?"

I nodded my head but frowned and made my way to the prison, thinking of something to do when I made it inside.

I passed Tyreese at the door. He was heading to where everyone had left the vehicles in case anything went wrong and we had to leave. He smiled at me as he passed, and before I could make it inside he called my name.

"Wait, Toby!" I stopped and turned around to look at him. "I left that glue you asked for in your bed."

I nodded at him, giving a small thank you as I continued to make my way into the cell block. It occurred to me at that moment that I could continue making the arrow for Daryl. Excitement bubbled in my chest at the thought of finally getting this finished for Daryl.

I wasn't sure how well the glue would work, I hoped it wouldn't add too much weight. It was better than nothing. When Tyreese and the others were going through supplies they'd found in storage rooms, closets, and offices, I heard him mentioning the glue and asked to have it.

I didn't see anybody when I made my way through the cell block and made a beeline up the stairs and towards my cell when I entered the cellblock. The first thing I noticed when I entered the cell was the dark blue hat sitting on the end of the bed. I stared at it for a second, before turning to find the glue. It had been left on the desk thing in the room, and my bag was where I had left it at the end of the cot.

I sat at the desk, reaching down to grab my bag where I left everything. I started digging around for the bolt and the owl feathers that I couldn't use last time I tried attaching them. I pulled out the start of the bolt, and a handful of the feathers before kicking the bag away from me and placing the items on the table.

I squirted some of the glue onto the side of the bolt and added the feathers before it got the chance to dry. I waited there for a few seconds to make sure the feathers would even stick before I repeated the same actions on the other sides of the bolt.

When I left the cell I heard people gathering around one of the other cells that I recognized as Hershel's. I made my way down the stairs to join the group of people in his cell before noticing that Carl was also there, standing just outside the door.

Carl turned to look at me as I walked down. "Hey, sorry I didn't come back outside. I wanted to help mom with Hershel."

I shrugged. "It's fine."

He moved into the door to see what was happening. I just saw Lori was there, holding up the crutches while Beth helped him sit up. Jimmy was sitting at his other side, his hand on his arm to keep him steady. Hershel pulled himself into a sitting position using his hand on the top bunk.

"Just take your time," I heard Lori saying.

Beth was next to speak. "Daddy, don't push yourself."

Lori held the crutches out for Hershel, holding them up so he could slip his arms through and hold onto the handles. "What else am I going to do? I can't stand looking at the bottom of that bunk." He pushed down on the crutches, keeping his one leg on the floor. He wobbled back and forth a little bit, and Beth immediately grabbed his arm along with Carl. When he finally stood still, he moved around a few steps. "You know, I think I'm pretty steady."

Lori smiled at him. "That's a good start. Want to take a rest?"

Hershel gave a smile. "Rest? Let's go for a little stroll."

Everybody moved slowly out of Hershel's room. I took a few steps back giving everyone the space they needed to pass me. Beth and Lori moved with him slowly, holding their arms out around him to make sure that he didn't fall.

Lori and Beth helped Hershel climb the stairs, supporting him by holding under his arms. Jimmy kept an arm out behind him. I followed behind them when they made it to the door and watched Lori and Beth do the same thing to help Hershel get outside.

"I got you," Lori said to Hershel, "here if you need it."

Beth nodded in agreement, not that he could see her. "Just take your time on those steps."

Carl smiled at me and jogged down the stairs to catch up with everybody. I did the same, walking at Beth's side.

"You cleared all those bodies out?" I heard Hershel say. "It's starting to look like a place we could really live in."

"Hey, you watch your step," Lori ordered holding a hand out towards him, but not actually helping him while he walked. "The last thing we need right now is you falling."

Hershel let out a little laugh and continued to walk along the courtyard using his crutches.

"You're doing great Daddy," Beth spoke.

It was obvious to see that Beth was ecstatic with Hershel being up and moving again. I never really spoke to him all that much, but it did make me kind of happy that he was okay. Everybody had been upset for so long.

Carl jogged forwards in front of Hershel a little. "Ready to race, Hershel?"

Hershel chuckled. "You give me another day, I'll take you on."

We all made it to the fence in the courtyard, and everyone was looking down. I joined them and noticed Rick, Daryl, and Glenn down by where we had cut the fence to get into the prison in the first place. They were pretty far away, but I knew they went out to get wood for a fire to burn the bodies of the walkers.

I just barely heard Glenn yelling with excitement from where he was, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. If I had to guess, he was probably excited that Hershel was moving around again. Rick placed his hand on the fence, from what I could see, and just stared back at the group, and Daryl was standing not far behind him.

I moved down the line of people to stand next to Carl, who was looking down across the field at the three men. He turned to look at me with a smile, but when he did his gaze moved back over his shoulder and the excited expression was lost from his face.

I frowned, looking back over my shoulder to see what he was looking at. From what I could see, the gate that was in the middle of the buildings had been opened, but in all honesty, I was too distracted by the tens of Walkers that were heading our way.

Carl pulled out his gun, spinning around to face the herd. "Walkers! Look out!"

I pulled my gun out like Carl, just as the others turned around to look at the Walkers. I heard the people down at the fence, yelling for us to get out of here. Carl shot one of the Walkers as it reached the table we were standing near, while the others started to run in different directions towards the prison.

It was at this point that I noticed Maggie and Guillermo, who started to walk from where everyone had parked the vehicles. Maggie pulled her weapon out and rushed towards the group. T-Dog wasn't far behind them running towards us.

I stepped to the side a little, keeping behind the table as the walkers neared. I raised my gun as one got closer and closer, swaying back and forth as it limped towards me. I tried my best to line the sights up with its head.

I breathed out, squeezing the trigger at the same time. The Walkers head flew back from the impact and fell. I felt a sense of relief, glad I'd killed it and only taken one shot.

I'd been so distracted by that Walker, I didn't notice the other one closing in, not until its fingers were inches from my face.

I yelped in fear, but it's movements stopped and it collapsed to the ground.

My eyes were wide with shock, looking ahead to see Lori by the gate toward the cell block, holding her gun up.

"In here," she called to me.

I ran her way, my shoes slapping hard against the pavement. Before I could make it a Walker closed in, grabbing her arm. Lori shrieked and was able to shove it off, before quickly backing up and slamming the gate shut. She shot the Walker through the fencing, calling out to me again, but more Walkers closed in, attracted by the sounds of her gunshots, soon, there were three, then four shoved up against the gate.

I stopped a few feet away, pointing my gun at them. I hesitated, glancing around to see that more was coming. It wouldn't matter if we took those out, I wouldn't make it.

"Go with T!" Lori yelled again, pointing in the direction he ran. It would be hard, a lot had been coming from that direction, but running toward Lori had allowed me to become surrounded, I couldn't go back.

Lori watched me with wide eyes, even as Maggie gripped her arm and pulled her into the building with Carl.

I shot the gun a few times, not always killing my target, but doing my best to dodge the Walkers as I ran forward. Beth, Sasha, and Hershel were behind another gate, similar to the one leading to our cell block, but they were surrounded too. They were safe but unable to let me in.

I kept trying to look for Daryl, I knew he wasn't close but part of me kept expecting him to appear out from behind a Walker. Daryl was always there, Daryl always saved the day.

The number of Walkers only seemed to increase no matter how many were shot. I tried to look past them to the yard, to see Daryl, to see if he was any closer, I couldn't.

All I could do was try to make my way to T-Dog, he was fast, killing off Walkers as he shot and ran further from me, toward an open gate.

When I was closer, T-Dog had reached the gate, struggling to slide it closed as Walkers on the other side attempted to shove through. I heard the metal clanging as he fumbled with the chains, grunting and yelling in panic.

I checked behind me quickly, confirming I was a good distance away from imminent danger. Just when I turned back, a Walker reached out both arms, gripping on to T-Dog.

Even though I only saw the Walkers back I knew its jaws were open wide, looking for someplace to sink its teeth into.

My whole body shook with adrenalin, I yelled in fear as I launched myself forward. I grabbed onto the Walkers shirt, attempting to yank it back, but only succeeding in tearing the shirt to expose the rotting flesh.

The stench hit me in a wave and I gagged, I was already surrounded by the awful smell, but now I was closer and exposed the decaying skin after ripping the fabric away.

I'd distracted the Walker, my yank was just barely enough to pull it away, but enough to have it turn on me. I yelled again, but for fear of myself, not T-Dog.

The Walker gargled a strange sound and reached out for me, much too close for me to get a shot, causing me to fall backward in a panic. The corpse fell on top of me and I dropped my gun while I tried pushing it off.

The back of my skull ground into the hard cement, trying to keep my face as far away from its teeth as I could. But it pushed back against my hands on its chest, repeatedly slamming his jaw up and down, the teeth clicking together as it tried to bite anything it could.

My nails were digging deep into its flesh. I kept turning my head, trying to avoid the liquid dripping from its mouth. I didn't know if it was drool, or blood, or some kind of rotting liquid but I kept gagging, my eyes watering with tears and disgust.

The weight was taken and I felt as if I could breathe again, but it came out as a high-pitched whine.

T-Dog had knocked the Walker off of me. I turned my head to the corpse, which was a mistake. The Walker ignored T-Dog, looking back at me, but before it could do anything, T-Dog's boot slammed hard against its skull in a sickening sound mixed with cracking and squelching. I felt cold flesh and blood splatter on my face and neck.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gagging again but feeling something come up my throat. I spit the bit of bile out as T-Dog grabbed onto my shoulders, yanking me up.

"I got you, girl. I got you."

I wiped my face with my hands, scared to open my eyes. I was afraid of seeing more Walkers, afraid of blood running into my eyes, and becoming infected. What made my fears worse was I had no idea if T-Dog got the gate closed before saving me.

After wiping my face several times, and hearing clanging against the fence, I opened my eyes. Feeling some relief wash over, T-Dog closed the gate. Though it stopped more from getting in, we were surrounded.

"We gotta—we gotta," T-Dog was panting, searching around for a non-existent solution.

"Here!" Someone called from across the courtyard. "Quick, come this way!"

My gaze shot to the side, and I noticed that Jimmy was standing at the door, waving for us to follow him inside. T-Dog placed a hand on my shoulder, shoving me forwards to run towards Jimmy.

I looked behind me, noticing that more Walkers were behind us. I wanted to stop and try to shoot them, but I knew I didn't have enough ammo to take them all out, each shot would only attract more, each shot would only stall our movements. I turned back to Jimmy, running a little ways in front of T-Dog.

I squeezed past him, making my way into the hallway that the door led to. T-Dog was right behind me, and I heard the door slam shut, leaving us in total darkness. The only sounds in the room were mine and T-Dog's heavy breathing.

"Come on," Jimmy moved past us, holding his gun in one hand. He turned down one of the bends, slightly jogging in front of us. "I think the cell block is this way—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the familiar sounds of growling echoed down the halls. Walkers started to rush down our way, and Jimmy had stopped in his tracks.

"Oh shit!" T-Dog exclaimed, panting. "We gotta move."

I found myself nodding at his statement, and stepping back away from the Walkers to the bend. T-Dog pushed me backward, and we turned and ran in the opposite direction. The growling got quieter as we ran, but I knew they were still dangerously close behind us.

We made it to another end, where the hallway split off into two pathways. T-Dog went to step one way but stopped when the same growling happened and the Walkers flooded around the corner. I looked back over my shoulder, and the original herd was still following behind us. T-Dog spun around quickly, and all three of us took off in the other direction.

As we ran down the hallway, we passed a few doors which I assumed to be some kind of cells. It was so dark I couldn't see what they were, and I was way too distracted by the sounds of the dead behind us.

T-Dog and I made it to another junction, and we tried to see which would be the best way to go. Jimmy let out a yelp behind us before the sound of gunshots were heard. We turned around to look at him, and he was leaning against a wall opposite one of the cell doors.

"Sorry. . ." He panted. I guessed he was talking about the gunshots. "One of those—one of them jumped me."

"It's okay, man," T-Dog answered and gestured down a hallway, flicking his head to the side. "Come on, this way."

We all took off in a run again.

My chest burned from all the running, and I probably would've slowed down if T-Dog wasn't directly behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder to make sure that I was keeping up with him. I was grateful for him at that point, knowing that I wouldn't have been able to keep going for this long if I was by myself.

We made it to a set of double doors, and I slammed against them with my shoulder to get them open quickly.

"Come on!" Jimmy shouted, turning down one of the paths that split off into two. We ran down the hallway together, and while we did, I noticed a junction to the side of us with another large group of walkers. They snarled and followed after us. "Keep running! Quick!"

Jimmy stopped as we neared another split in the paths, but backed up when Walkers started coming from both directions.

"Oh God . . ." He looked around frantically, pointing towards the wall. "Check those doors."

I nodded and ran towards the doors, pushing against each one, trying to get them to open. Gunshots rang out behind me, one after the other and I had finally pushed against a door that opened.

"Here!" I called.

I looked back at the two men but soon realized that Jimmy was the only one with me and T-Dog was gone. He must've gotten separated at one of the junctions.

Jimmy's gun clicked, showing that he was out of ammo. He looked at the weapon with wide eyes and turned on his heels to follow me in the room before the Walkers caught up with us. I panted leaning against the wall, but Jimmy shoved his body against the door as the Walkers started to push it open.

"Go get that table!" He ordered. "Quick!"

I nodded and ran further into the room to push the heavy metal table towards Jimmy. He kept hollering at me to hurry, but the table was too heavy, and I struggled. Once I got close enough he quickly let the door go to help me with the table to rest of the way.

The door was just beginning to be pushed open when he rammed the end of the table under the door handle to keep the door closed. He kicked it into place with his knee, but when he did, the doorknob shifted out of place to the side and the door was stuck in place.

He slowly removed his hand from the door and it didn't budge, even though we knew that the Walkers were still pushing against it on the other side.

Jimmy leaned over and put his hands on his knees. "That should keep them out."

I nodded but kept staring at the door just in case. I leaned back against the wall behind me, trying to catch my breath from all the running. When I had finally managed to calm down, I heard Jimmy at my side, his breathing getting quicker and quicker, like he was hyperventilating.

"Oh God . . .!" He started panicking, and when I turned to look at him, he was looking down at his chest.

I could barely see in the room, it was darker than the hallways, but what I did notice was the red stain at the top of his once white shirt. The fabric was ripped on his chest area, just under the hem at the neck.

He's bit.

There is an odd sense of ease after a high tense situation, where the adrenalin drains from the body, where the lungs have time to catch up and everything slows down. You are in danger still, but it is not imminent, you are scared, but not panicked. You made it, but you lived.

It could be worse, you could be dying. Just like him.

I tried not to look at him, but it was impossible, there was nothing but metal shelves with piles of sheets and maybe towels. Every time I looked over, a sense of nausea overwhelmed me, a sense of doom that was difficult to overcome.

We were in the room for a long time, a few hours, I was unsure how many. Possibly two.

Jimmy was calm, it came as a relief, though I didn't trust it. After showing the bite, he panicked all over again, screaming that soon melted into cries. I silently begged for someone to hear, someone to shut him up, someone to come and help. Only the Walkers could hear, they grew louder with each scream, each cry.

He would hold his hands to the bite, the blood seeping through his shirt and fingers, but doing nothing for it. He did nothing to stop the bleeding or care for the wound, maybe because he knew it didn't matter, the bite meant death.

Jimmy calmed after some time, though the Walkers didn't care. They banged and groaned and pushed against the door. The door moved a few times, scaring us both, but they didn't get in.

Jimmy sat on the floor, silently crying with his bloody hand over his mouth.

When what I could only describe as sirens went off, Jimmy lost himself again.

Instead of just screaming, he yelled for help, trying to grab someone's attention, only the Walkers responded. He yelled back at them to shut up, to go away as though they would listen. Jimmy would throw his hands up, hitting and punching the wall.

The sirens, as scary and confusing as they were, could've been seen as a good thing. They echoed all around the halls, and possibly the whole prison, confusing the Walkers and sending them into different directions.

But he didn't seem to put that together, or just didn't care, continuing to alert the Walkers to where we were. I felt sick with fear and his anguish. I was scared he'd rile them up so much, he would kill us both.

A few times I'd even screamed at him to stop, but I was invisible. I wanted to run up and punch him, shake some sense into him, but something had me keep my distance. I didn't want to be close to him.

At the peak of his anger, Jimmy grabbed onto one of the shelves, shaking it before finally bringing it crashing to the ground. The sound was so loud I covered my ears and yelped, so sure that it would be the last straw, all the Walkers would come, they could all push against the door and eat us alive.

After what he did with the shelf he seemed to calm down, still sobbing, but calm. As if staring at the damage brought him back to reality.

I'd been standing, cowering in the corner during the tantrums. Once he'd calmed down, for the second time, he sat against the wall across the room. When I was sure he wouldn't throw another fit, I slowly stepped from my corner.

"You're bleedin'." I didn't know what to say, but it was as if he didn't know.

"What?" Jimmy seemed confused, then I pointed to the mess of blood, the spot on his shirt had been growing.

He made an odd huffing sound, which suspiciously sounded like a laugh. I glanced down at my feet, seeing different sized clothes strewn across the room from the knocked down shelf. I bent over to retrieve a partially folded sheet, only noticing how much I was shaking when I grasped the fabric.

The sirens stopped and I looked around as if I would see the cause. I waited a moment, just to be sure they were done. When they didn't start again, Jimmy and I both let out a heavy breath.

I walked closer to him and held it out, stretching my arm far. I could have gone closer, but I didn't want to. I wasn't scared of Jimmy, I was scared of his bite as if getting too close would put me at risk.

Where's Daryl?

Jimmy took it from me without a word, pressing it onto his wound.

I backed away, sitting down on the floor and leaning against the top of the knocked down shelf.

I wanted to count my bullets, I knew I had to be low, but every time I considered, a Walker would shove against the door hard, causing me to ready the gun.

My concept of time was already bad, it was worse after the fear, confusion, and panic Jimmy added. We had to have been in there for close to three hours, or did it only feel like that?

There are times the Walkers quiet, then get loud, and then quiet again. I was sure if we stayed quiet, they'd move on and forget about us. We could leave, get out, and find the others. Jimmy could say goodbye, the family would cry all over again, just like they had with Hershel, and someone would end it.

T-Dog had been the closest to us, he would find where we were.

Hours ago, he's trapped somewhere, or dead.

T-Dog wasn't far from us when we got separated, he would kill the Walkers outside the door and find us.

Why hasn't he yet?

Chewing my nails anxiously, I considered that something might have happened. But that was okay, there was Daryl, and Lori, and Maggie, and Carl, and Rick. Rick would even be fine.

Jimmy was dying, but it would end up fine. Someone would get us out, someone would fix it.

Daryl was probably down the hall, checking all the rooms, he would see the Walkers at the door and work out someone was in here.

"Do you even know where we are?"

Jimmy's voice startled me, I didn't expect him to say anything, he'd been quiet for so long. What also startled me was the clarity in his voice, he didn't sound sick, or dying, or angry, just a man asking a question.

"In the prison I mean, do you know where we are?"

I shook my head, trying and failing to keep my eyes off his bite.

"I don't. I mean, we went around a lot, I don't think I came this way. It's too dark, I wouldn't know. I wonder if they did, do they know what's down here?"

I didn't respond with a gesture, he wasn't asking me.

"Do they even know to look here?"

I tilted my head, finally understanding what he was getting at. How well did they know the prison, the possibilities of hiding places?

"They do," I said, looking at the door. The group will search around for everyone, clearing out the Walkers as they did the first time.

When I looked back at Jimmy, I saw him staring at me with a furrowed brow.

"How do you know that?"

I shrugged, "they gotta kill all the Walkers, to make it safe again. So they gotta come 'round here anyway."

Daryl always shows up.

"And they prob'ly saw us go inside," I added, surprising myself. I wanted to keep quiet, but I couldn't help but answer him. It was odd for me, I wasn't sure if I'd ever spoken to Jimmy. So why did it seem so easy?

I felt as if I needed him to know what was on my mind, let him know what was going on. "The Walkers'll get tired and leave, then we can get out and find everyone else."

"They don't get tired," he argued, sounding peeved. "They just . . . find someone else."

Someone. Not something. Someone.

I was standing by the door, trying to listen for anything in the hall. I heard some dragging and shuffling sounds, but not much else.

My head turned to the sound of Jimmy puking again. So much time had passed, the certainty and expectancy that someone would be there, at any moment, was ebbing away.

I stretched my jaw, making a yawning motion that caused my ear to crackle and partially pop. It made it feel a bit better, relieving the bit of tension inside.

"He's going to fix it," Jimmy pants out between retches. "It's fine, it's fine."

I don't have to say how absurd the hope in his voice sounds. We both knew what was going to happen. I could tell by the awkward sobs that spewed out while he puked, he knew.

Once we were found, they would get ready to end it, to kill him.

He was talking about Hershel, he'd been bringing him up every so often. Hershel helped him, gave him a place to stay. Jimmy told me the story of when Hershel's son Shawn accidentally shot himself in the foot, an awful but stupid accident.

Hershel had Jimmy help as they cleaned the wound and bandaged it. He went on about what Hershel taught him about open wounds, how to clean and care for them.

"I had so much respect for him right there. He could teach me anything, I wanted to be like him. I knew that even though I was stuck there, after my parents . . ." Jimmy stopped to sniffle and dry heave. "I was stuck with the right people."

Why was he telling me about all this? It started with a school project, getting paired with Beth, then leading to spending a lot of time at Hershel's place. I tried to piece together his stories, the relevance of it all, to see if there was a point. I couldn't find one. He was just talking, telling me these things as if they hold some significant meaning. But they don't, they are just things, things that happened in his life.

Things that don't matter because he's dying.

"It didn't matter. Shawn got bit and died a few days after."

I opened my mouth and closed it several times, I kept thinking I had something to say, but I didn't. Nothing helpful or important. I wanted to say something, I knew I should be comforting or

consoling or helpful.

I didn't know how, I didn't know what to say or how to start, or whether he even wanted me to. I couldn't be this open to someone I never spoke with, I could never share things like he was. Did it not bother him? Or did it not matter because he was dying?

The sharing was too much, too much to handle, too much of a reminder that he was dying. Being there for his death, standing a few feet away as he slowly lost himself to the fever, that was already more intimacy I've shared with anyone before.

I didn't want to like him, I didn't want to care about him, or know him, because then this and everything after would hurt too much.

"Did you ever think about what you wanted your life to be like? Like when you grow up?"

I had to look up at him, squinting to see if he was really talking to me at that point. He had been in and out of it for the last hour, switching between talking to himself and talking to me.

When I realised that he was actually speaking to me, I took some time at thinking about the question. I had never really thought about it. When daddy used to invite people over at the house, I met a lot of people from the military. For a while, I assumed that I would be doing that. There didn't seem to be anything else I was even good at, let alone doing in the future.

"I thought about the army once," I answered simply.

He sniffed, lifting his hand to wipe his eyes. "There was so much I wanted to do. Go out drinking with my friends, doing my exams even doing stupid stuff like having a cigarette. I never even had a cigarette before, how dumb is that?"

"You don't wanna, it's gross."

All sound stopped in the room at that moment, and Jimmy stared at me with wide eyes. "You've had a cigarette?"

"I only tried one puff."

Jimmy let out a laugh, that was on the line of sobbing at the same time. "Good to know."

He didn't say much else after that.

There was a sick heaviness in my stomach. This man was infected and facing the final moments of his life. How would I know what could bring this man comfort?

I found myself pacing a lot. I went from sitting on the floor, hugging my knees, to walking circles around the room. I felt anxious and impatient, unsure of what to do with myself. I wanted to yell for help as Jimmy did hours before, but even if that got someone's attention, it would attract the Walkers again. That would not only put me and Jimmy in danger but anyone out there.

Thinking about the halls again drew me closer to the door. I walked to the side of the table and leaned over, putting my ear near the door. I couldn't hear anything, the silence was both reassuring and sinister.

I felt my chest tightening, nervous and possibly excited. I kept my ear to the door, whispering, "I think we can go. It's quiet, we could get out."

I looked over at Jimmy when he didn't answer. His head was lulled to the side, while his limbs hung limply at his sides. He didn't show any signs he even heard me.

"Jimmy?" I raised my voice a bit, standing straight and backing away from the door.

Jimmy raised his head the tiniest bit, his eyes meeting my own with great struggle. I could hear his laboured and ragged breathing, but with each inhale his chest barely moved.

I felt goosebumps run up my arms and the back of my neck, though still willing myself closer. With the very little light in the room, I could see the effects of the fever had worsened. The whites of his eyes had turned red with irritation. His skin, all along his face and neck were flush with the heat of the fever.

The daunting thought hits me, he can't even stand.

"Ye-ah," he barely got out. I watched him try to push himself up, but it was useless.

He's dying.

There was still time, someone would find us, or we would get out and find them.

He can't even stand.

I don't look at Jimmy, I instead begin pushing the table from the door. I stopped abruptly when it screeched across the cement floor. I listened again, hearing a bit of shuffling from the hall but not much. I pushed the table once more, trying to partially lift it to ease the sound, but it was very thick and heavy.

When the table was far enough from the door, I put my ear against it. I could hear the low groans of Walkers, but it didn't sound as if there were a lot. They hadn't come to the door, I guessed the sounds I made echoed out the hall, making it difficult to pinpoint where it came from.

I put my hand to the knob and am reminded how it got knocked out of place. I tried to pull on the door and nothing happened. Turning the knob was useless, it was loose in its place, unable to function properly.

I furrowed my eyebrows, spinning the useless hunk of metal, trying to figure out what to do.

I glanced back at Jimmy, he'd been able to move from his spot halfway across the room. Unable to make it, he was still on all fours, panting from the energy he'd used up.

A moment after seeing his condition, I learned his panting is not only from the movement, but he was crying.

"I don't—I can't. I don't wanna die, I'm not ready. I don't wanna die. Please . . . Please God—" Jimmy dry heaved, interrupting himself as his body attempted to rid of anything left in his stomach. Nothing would come out, he'd lost anything that would come out long before. Then he dropped himself to the ground, giving up as his cries began to quiet.

I felt my breathing stop and my muscles stiffen. I turned back to the door, trying in vain to put the knob back in place. I pushed, I pulled, I turned, the shaking in my hands worsening as nothing helped.

Then the doorknob had the exact opposite effect as it fell out of its spot in the door. I held it up to my face, the panic settling into my stomach.

I placed the knob on the nearby table, going back to try and force open the door. I pushed with my shoulder, even trying to get my fingers into the gap where the knob was to try and pull it open.

Nothing worked, nothing helped.

I ran my hands over the hinges, trying to decipher any other reason the door would not work. Was it only because of the knob? Did something jam? Was something blocking the other side?

I turned to Jimmy again, who was very still and curled up on the floor. I could just barely hear his breathing.

It's only then do I realise the situation. I was trapped in a room with a dying man, I'd been trapped for hours, with no clue on to why I hadn't been found, no clues on if anyone was still in the building or even alive.

I was trapped with a dying man, a man dying from a bite.

I watched Jimmy for a long time, I continued watching as his soft crying melted into heavy breathing.

I didn't speak or try to get him to, I let the room fall into silence. But it wasn't a real silence, I could still hear the Walkers snarling, filtering into the room from the halls.

He'll be one of them soon.

Someone will come, they'll find me and they'll have to do this. I kept my eyes on Jimmy, the gun ready in my hands in case he moved. I didn't want to do this. I had remembered asking Daryl to put the squirrel out of its misery, and even then I would've preferred that.

The longer it was taking for people to show up, the more I realised that it was coming closer and closer to the fact that it would be me.

It would have to be me.

'One day, you might find yourself in a situation where . . . you have to be ready for what needs to be done.'

A free hand unconsciously raised to touch the pendant that hung from the chain around my neck. I would have to put Jimmy down.

I can't do this! I had started to scream in my head. The tears had already started to escape from my eyes, just thinking about it.

I wasn't ready, he wasn't ready.

I felt utterly useless as I was forced to face the enormity of what was happening. I wasn't going to be saved, no one was coming. I couldn't continue to wait for someone to show up and do it for me. I didn't have that time.

I never thought this would happen. Inside, I knew more would die, the death never seemed to stop. But I never thought it would lead to where I was, locked in a room with a Walker. A Walker that I used to see breathing, smiling, living.

I didn't know what to do or where to start. Would I do it before, to put him out of his misery, wait until he died, or would I wait until he became one of them?

Daryl was supposed to be there. Someone, anyone, an adult. I was a kid that didn't know anything, it wasn't my job. How was I supposed to decide what to do?

'Turn off a switch. The switch.'

The switch . . .

'The one that makes you scared or angry, sympathetic, whatever. You don't think, you just-you act.'

At some point, while I'd been staring at Jimmy for what felt like hours, his breathing had stopped. I wasn't sure when, I was so lost in myself. I wiped at the tears on my face, slowly clearing the space between us. I watched for any movement, checking to be sure the breathing stopped.

I stood at his side, staring down at his face. When nothing happened I knelt down and gently pushed his shoulder, causing him to partially roll onto his back.

Jimmy's skin still felt hot and clammy, but I knew he was dead. The room was silent for a few moments, and the only sound that filled the room was my quiet sobs. I sniffled and tried to control myself. I remembered when this had been done before, Dale, Amy, Carol.

Everything around me stopped, I could hear my pulse in my ears when Jimmy's eyelashes began to flutter. I was thinking back, trying to understand my role and grasp what I had to do.

I don't want to. I don't want to. I don't want . . .

A Walker was rising, waking up, and I closed my eyes.

The switch.

I couldn't care about him, I couldn't feel bad or be scared. I didn't know him. I refused myself the need to care about someone that would leave my life, that had already left. This man was dead and held no place in my life.

I felt something inside me snap. It wasn't abrupt, or quick, or loud. It was gentle, and almost soothing.

I could be ready for this, this is how it works now, I can be ready. I'm ready.

My eyes opened and I saw that I already held the barrel to his forehead. My limbs for shaking, as if the physical part of me was fighting. Inside I felt calm and quiet, and ready.

I don't want this! I don't want to do this!

That was fine. I didn't have to want it. I just had to do it.

Jimmy's wide, dead eyes met my own, but he hesitated, unsure of what I was or what I was doing.

Jimmy—no, he wasn't Jimmy anymore—seemed to understand what I was; food. His mouth opened and his head began to move, I felt something at my side, fingers maybe.

I pulled the trigger—BANG—and it's head flew back and dropped to the floor.

I had to do it. I had to do it just like Daryl said.

Like Shane said.

Not too long later, I heard loud banging on the door. I glanced over, seeing that the door was moving slightly with each hit. Someone was trying to force it open.

I heard something snap and the door swung open. I squinted to see if the figure became any clearer. I wasn't crying anymore, but I was aware of the dried tear stains down my cheeks.

"I heard the gunshot," I barely recognised the voice, and I only knew who he was when he stepped closer. I could barely make him out in the dark. Oscar? He looked around the room, grimacing when he saw the body. I wasn't sure if he understood what happened, but it didn't matter to me. I knew what happened.

"We should get you back to your people," he spoke. "You got some people worried to death."

I nodded my head in agreement, using the wall to push myself to my feet. I stepped out of the room, waiting for Oscar as he took one final look at the body.

'Tell me this, you got a Walker cornering you, you gonna kill it, or let it kill you?'

I didn't hesitate, "kill it."

Wowie this chapter held some heavy stuff for me. Finishing up my term from school, COVID, my new job, and some family issues have been holding me back... but here it is! Not only thanks to me, but my good friend Bobbie.

Bobbie wrote a good chunk, really getting into it and helped me outline the rest. As a christmas present to me, and all the readers!

PLEASE let us know what you think, drop a review. I hope we did the Jimmy scene justice. In the next chapter we will follow the aftermath of the prison Walker attack.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS