CHAPTER 4

Former NFL player Tyreese Williams led a small part of the Woodbury group across the courtyard and towards the side door to Cell Block C; when Tyreese arrived at their destination, he knocked twice and took a step back.

The door swung open and the old farmer and veterinarian Hershel Greene appeared in the doorway; the sight of the crutches underneath Hershel's arms made Tyreese look down at the stump at the end of his right leg.

Hershel smiled and said, "Good morning, Tyreese."

Tyreese looked up at Hershel quickly and muttered, "Uh, what's up, Hershel?"

"Relax son, you're not the one who cut off my leg."

Tyreese shivered as he remembered when he and his sister Sasha were told by Hershel's oldest daughter Maggie, how her father was bitten on his ankle by a walker as they were scouting the prison's hallways; Rick cut the foot off with a hatchet and saved her father's life.

"Uh, can we come in?"

Hershel nodded and hobbled to the side. Tyreese looked over his shoulder and waved his group forward.

Tyreese and his group stepped inside Cell Block C and saw the dozens of cardboard boxes filled with supplies stacked along the far wall. Tyreese also saw Carl, wearing his battered Stetson hat, standing in front of the doorway that led to the cell block.

"You, Rick, and Carl returned with a lot of supplies," Hershel said as he hobbled to Tyreese's side, "enough to keep the prison running as we rebuild it. But we can't keep all of it in this room." Hershel glanced down at his stump and said, "I have enough trouble maneuvering around as it is."

Tyreese chuckled at Hershel's self-depreciating humor and asked, "Where are we going to put all of this stuff?"

"My group has fewer people than yours. I thought we could stock the supplies in the empty cells: food and medicine on the bottom tier, ammo and cleaning supplies on the top tier; the gas tanks can go in the motor pool."

Tyreese nodded. "Sounds good."

"Carl will spot for us."

Tyreese looked at Carl again, and the boy nodded in agreement.

"All right, let's do this," Tyreese said.

Tyreese's group muttered or nodded in agreement and followed him across the common room. They each opened up the nearest cardboard box, checked its contents and closed the box. At the other side of the common room, Carl opened the cellblock door and walked inside.

"This way, ladies and gentlemen," Hershel said as he pointed towards the open cellblock door.

Tyreese and his group picked up the heavy cardboard boxes and walked past Hershel as they made their way to the cellblock. When Tyreese stepped inside, he saw Carl standing in the middle of the hallway.

"Here's an empty cell," Carl said as he pointed to his right.

Tyreese glanced at the heavy cardboard box in his arms and replied, "Cool. I've got canned goods."

Tyreeese walked up the hallway and peaked inside the empty cell; after another glance at the heavy cardboard box, he stepped inside the cell and placed atop the top bunk. Tyreese stepped out of the cell and saw the carpenter Eddie Nowak, walking down the hallway with a heavy cardboard box in his hands.

"What've you got, Eddie?" Tyreese asked.

"Ammo," Eddie answered.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Nowak, but ammo goes on the top tier," Carl said as he pointed up.

"It's okay, kid. I'm not too old to use the stairs," Eddie grinned.

"I'll find an empty cell," Carl said as he ran up the iron staircase.

"Be careful of your back, old man," Tyreese quipped as Eddie walked past him.

Eddie stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder at Tyreese. He then put the cardboard box down on the staircase's bottom step, rummaged through it, and stood up with a box of 5.56 ammunition.

"Hey, Tyreese. I just remembered how piss poor you are at shooting. Maybe if you slept with these bullets under your pillow, it'll improve your aim," Eddie taunted humorously.

Tyreese swatted a hand at the box of ammunition. "Fuck you, Eddie," he grumbled as he turned around and walked towards the common room.

Eddie grinned and put the ammunition back into the cardboard box; he then picked up the box and walked up the iron staircase to the top tier.

•••

Alicia held the sharp, bloody broomstick pole in her hands as she coldly watched the soldier walker stager towards her. The soldier walker wore ragged fatigues, its magazine pouches and sheath were empty, and it had bite marks on its arms.

Alicia narrowed her eyes as she tightened her grip on the broomstick pole.

The soldier walker stepped over the small pile of dead walkers in front the chain-link fence and when it growled hungrily at Alicia, a thin line of drool was suspended from its bottom lip.

Alicia thrust the broomstick pole through the chain link fence.

SHLUKK!

The sharpened tip of the broomstick pole went through the army walker's open mouth and exited at the back of its head. The army walker shook like it had been electrocuted, and when Alicia yanked the broomstick pole free, the army walker fell backwards and landed on the small pile of its fellow dead walkers.

John, who sat a few feet behind Alicia with his fence crew, applauded politely. "I'll give the lady an eight," he quipped.

The men on the fence crew laughed.

Michael stood a distance away his wife, with his arms on his hips, but at the sound of John's quip he dropped his arms to his sides and turned towards the Vietnam veteran. "How can you joke about her killing those…things?"

John shrugged and answered, "Michael, until society stands up and brushes the dust off, the closest thing I've got to sports is watching people kill these biters."

The men on the fence crew laughed again.

Michael looked at Alicia and walked over to her. "I need to talk to you," he whispered urgently.

Alicia glared at Michael and whispered in response, "I'm on the fence."

"One of John's guys can cover for you."

Alicia looked over her right shoulder at John and his crew; John touched the brim of his Atlanta Braves hat with two fingers and gave her a salute. Alicia looked back at Michael again and whispered, "They're too old."

"They can manage."

Alicia glared at Michael for a few moments, but she set the bloody broomstick pole against the chain-link fence and walked past her husband.

John and the fence crew watched as Michael finally followed after Alicia. Charlie nudged John with his elbow and quipped, "Looks like Michael's having trouble in paradise."

John replied, "Charlie, with the world having gone to shit, I think you and the rest of the boys ought to be jealous of whatever trouble Michael's gotten into."

Charlie laughed, and the fence crew laughed too.

•••

Michael waited until he and Alicia were out of John and the fence crew's sight and earshot before he grabbed his wife's wrist and stopped her in her tracks. "Alicia, what's wrong with you?" he asked worriedly.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Michael," Alicia answered curtly.

"I think you're lying. I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Alicia glared at her husband; she clenched her fists, and tears started fill her eyes. Finally she pointed to her left and shouted, "I hate them!"

"John and the guys?" Michael asked. "I know John can be a jerk, but—"

"Not them. The biters!"

Michael blinked and asked, "The biters?"

Alicia nodded as the tears ran down her face. "I was afraid of them. Oh God I was so afraid. But do you remember the day when that herd tried to tear down the fences?"

Michael nodded.

"There was a fat biter in its underwear coming at me. I was scared of it but do you remember what you told me?"

"I remember," Michael answered. "I said, 'Don't be afraid of it, Alicia! It's not human! It's not even alive!'"

"You're right. So I took my broomstick pole— the same broomstick pole I was using earlier—and I stuck it through that biter's eye. I killed it, and I wasn't afraid of the biters anymore."

"I'm proud that you're brave now, Alicia. But when you pushed me out of the way earlier, and killed that biter yourself, you scared me."

"I want to kill biters. I want to kill them all. That's why I volunteered for the fence crew," Alicia admitted as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Michael's expression softened; he put his hands on Alicia's forearms and said, "Sweetheart, I'm glad you're not afraid of the biters anymore, but you don't have to kill them all."

"I want to kill them before they kill our daughter!"

Michael gasped in surprise. "Alicia, Kim was at Berkley when everything fell apart. We don't know if she's alive or—"

"Kim is alive!" Alicia shouted as she swatted Michael's hands away.

"Don't you think I believe that too?" Michael asked angrily. "I'm…I'm just saying… we don't know for certain."

"Kim is alive," Alicia repeated.

Michael glanced at the ground and asked, "How are we going to find her?"

Alicia was quiet for a few moments, then she cried again and she whispered, "I don't know."

Michael looked at Alicia, pulled his crying wife into his embrace, and said nothing.