CHAPTER 6
One of the women from Woodbury saw the walkers staggering towards the prison, and she screamed in terror.
The other Woodburians now saw the walkers and many of them screamed too; a few of them dropped their homemade weapons or field tools, all of them took several steps away from the fence line. When Floyd dropped the sharpened piece of rebar and ran uphill to the prison, it was like a nod of approval, and half the Woodburians followed the retired postal worker.
Rick had spun around at the sound of the Woman's screaming and now he watched in shock as Floyd lead half of the Woodburians away from the fence line. "Halt!" he shouted like he used to when he was a sheriff's deputy in King County, Georgia.
The Woodburians who were debating whether they should fight or flee froze in place.
"Get behind that fence now!" Rick ordered.
The remaining Woodburians picked up their homemade weapons and ran to the fence.
"Spread out! Draw their attention! Don't let them bunch up in front the car!"
The Woodburians followed Rick's orders, and broke off into pairs along the fence line as they screamed, waved, and banged their weapons against the chain link.
The approaching walkers' golden eyes glared at the shouting prey in front of them and the walkers began to spread out as they staggered closer to the fence.
Glenn and Maggie ran to the guard tower beside the squad car; they knelt down, put their blade weapons on the ground, put on their gauntlets and helmets, and stood up with their weapons in hand.
Rick tightened his grip on the Gerber Gator Machette as he climbed atop the hood of the squad car and stepped down so he was outside the fence.
Glenn raised his helmet's clear visor. "Rick, what are you—"
"We can't let any of them climb over the car!" Rick interrupted. "You and Maggie guard the right!"
Glenn lowered the helmet's visor and he and Maggie climbed over the trunk of the prison squad car as quickly as they could in their riot gear.
Michonne climbed atop the trunk, stepped down, and stood beside Rick, who was unbuttoning his jacket so he could move his arms freely. "Are you ready for this?" he asked.
Michonne glared at the approaching walkers and reached behind her back and drew her katana. "Absolutely," she answered.
Rick smiled at Michonne's limitless confidence and waited for the first walker to get close enough for him to strike it with his machete.
•••
Atop the destroyed watch tower, Carol picked up Dale's Remington 700 bolt action rifle, thumbed the safety to the "off" position, and watched worriedly as the walkers staggered closer to the fence line.
"The shots will just bring more of 'em," Daryl said as he thumbed the safety of his crossbow to the "off" position.
"I think we're past that," Carol replied as she watched more walkers stagger out of the forest. Soon, the group of walkers became a herd.
"Maybe," Daryl said as he brought his crossbow up to his shoulder and looked through the scope placed onto the sight bridge. "But we're up here and Rick's on the fence; if it gets bad, light 'em up."
The scope's sights lined up on a black teenage walker: it wore an oversized black T-shirt that had a black and white picture of Tupac Shakur printed on it, oversized jeans, and a gold chain caked with dry blood was around its neck; the left side of the walker's face was torn off along with its left ear.
Daryl squeezed the crossbow's trigger.
THUNK!
The arrow struck the teenage walker in the forehead, and it froze for a moment before it fell to the ground face first. The walkers behind the dead teenage walker stepped over it and continued on to the fence and the humans shouting and banging their weapons on the other side of it.
Daryl put the barrel of his crossbow on the floor, slipped his foot into the stirrup, and pulled the string back until it cocked; he slid his foot out of the stirrup, knelt down, selected a spare arrow from his green quiver, stood up, placed the arrow onto the crossbow's flight groove, and brought his crossbow up to his shoulder to take another shot.
•••
Michael had a comforting hand around Alicia's shoulders. Alicia held onto her sharpened broomstick pole like it was a flag pole and not a weapon. "We can't run. There's nowhere for us run to run to anymore," he said firmly.
Alicia nodded quickly as tears ran down her face; she was gripping the broomstick so tightly, her knuckles had turned white.
"They're not people anymore. We have to kill them," Michael said as he took his arm away from Alicia's shoulder and held his own sharpened broomstick with both hands.
"Okay," Alicia's voice cracked as she pointed her broomstick at the chain-link fence.
Across the fence, a fat male walker naked except for a pair of urine-stained briefs, a wristwatch and a threadbare pair of socks staggered towards her. Alicia slid the sharpened point of the broomstick through the chain-link and waited for the fat walker to stagger closer.
•••
"Walkers! Walkers!" Floyd shouted as he ran onto the prison's courtyard.
Donna—her dyed auburn hair showing streaks of her natural white—turned towards the sound of the shouting and saw Floyd running across the courtyard. "Floyd, what're you—"
"There're walkers coming out of the woods!" Floyd shouted at Donna as he ran past her.
The old and young Woodburians looked down at the fence line and saw dozens of walkers staggering out of the forest. The old men cursed, the old women screamed, mothers cried for their children, and the children ran crying to their mothers.
As the Woodburians on the courtyard panicked, the ones that abandoned the fence line appeared and ran across the courtyard, shouting and screaming and adding to the confusion.
"Floyd!" Donna shouted as she began running after the retired postal worker. "What happened to Michonne? What happened to Rick?"
"I don't know!" Floyd shouted as he looked over his shoulder. "Just get in the cell block before it's too late!"
Donna stopped her poor attempt at running and turned around to see the deserters from the fence line running past their young and aged neighbors on the courtyard; it wouldn't be long before the rest of them would start screaming and running too. Donna looked in the direction of the motor pool and saw her husband John and the construction crew loading a heavy iron door onto the flatbed trailer attached to the truck. "John! John!" she shouted with her hands cupped around her mouth.
•••
Carl leapt to his feet and watched wide eyed as Floyd and several of the Woodburians ran across the courtyard, shouting that walkers were coming out of the woods. Soon, the people on the courtyard panicked and started to run towards Cell Block D. One of the men—Carl heard his name was Sam Dunbar— suddenly stopped in his tracks, grabbed hold of another man's arm, and started shouting at the other men to stop running and listen to him.
Carl narrowed his eyes, and his right hand slowly dropped to the holster at his side, unsnapped the thumb break, and waited for the crowd to turn into a mob.
"The guns!" Sam shouted as he pointed at the laundry cart Carl was standing beside. "Get the guns!"
The three men looked in the direction their ringleader pointed towards and their frightened eyes glazed over with determined resolve.
"Come on!" Sam shouted; a moment later he was running towards the laundry cart.
"Yeah!" the three men shouted in unison as they followed Sam.
Carl drew his Beretta 92FS pistol, thumbed the safety to the "off" position, and aimed the pistol high above the men's heads.
BANG!
The four men fell to onto their backsides like they were knocked down by a strong wind. Carl aimed the pistol at the startled men.
"Get out of here," Carl ordered coldly.
The four would-be thieves stood up and ran towards Cell Block D. Carl kept his pistol aimed at them until they were out of sight.
•••
Tyreese and John held the top of the heavy iron door while Eddie and Gregg held the bottom; Henry and Charlie stood nearby, with Henry directing the crew towards the flatbed trailer behind them.
"You know what?" John asked Tyreese as they stepped in unison onto the flatbed.
"What?" Tyreese asked.
"You make a better construction worker than a football player," John answered.
"That's what my father told me after I was cut from the Falcons," Tyreese said.
John looked wide-eyed at Tyreese, who grinned in return. John smiled and shook his head in amusement.
"Do you guys hear something?" Gregg asked as he and Eddie raised their end of the iron door onto the flatbed.
"Yeah," Charlie said as he looked back at the courtyard. "Someone's screaming."
"Whatever it is, Rick can handle it," John said confidently.
"Jesus H. Christ, all of a sudden you're a fan of Rick Grimes?" Gregg asked in disbelief.
"Hey, I'm just giving the man a chance. That's all I wanted from the Governor."
Tyreese and John moved along the flatbed slowly as they carried the top of the iron door; Eddie and Gregg stepped onto the flatbed as they carried iron door's bottom. After a few cautious steps, the four men stood with the iron door above the center of the flatbed. "Okay, put this fucker down carefully," John said.
The four men bent down in unison, gingerly placed the iron door onto the floor of the flatbed, and breathed a sigh of relief as they stood straight.
"What the hell is going on over there?" Charlie asked as he took a few steps toward the courtyard.
The construction crew looked at the courtyard, and saw dozens of people running towards Cell Block D. Donna was facing their direction, and a moment later they heard her voice shouting, "John! John!"
A chill ran through John's body just like it would when he sensed a V.C. ambush back in Vietnam. "Donna," he whispered.
A shot rang out.
"Walkers!" Alonso shouted fearfully.
John leapt off the flatbed trailer. "Donna!" he shouted as he began running towards the courtyard.
Henry looked over his shoulder at the construction crew. "The walkers overran the fence!" he shouted.
"Quick! Grab something heavy or sharp!" Eddie shouted as he leapt off the flatbed trailer and ran to the battered metal tool box; Henry, Charlie, and Gregg followed him and rummaged through the tool box for wrenches, hammers, and screwdrivers; Tyreese pulled his framing hammer from the holder attached to his belt, leapt off the flatbed trailer, and ran towards the courtyard.
•••
The herd was breaking up and staggering towards the Woodburians behind the fence, but a good number were still headed towards the prison squad car.
The closest walker to Rick was a female whose sundress was caked with blood and dirt. Rick thrust his machete into the female's face, and it exited out the back of its head. Rick put his left hand on the now dead walker's shoulder, pulled the machete out, and let go of its shoulder, and it crumbled to the field.
Two male walkers wearing bloodstained Atlanta Braves jerseys staggered towards Michonne; the smaller one ahead of the taller one. Michonne narrowed her eyes and swung her sharp katana.
SHUKK!
Michonne's blade cut across the first walker's head from above its jaw; the head flipped backwards and struck the second walker in the face; the second walker froze and blinked as if it were stung by the impact, and as the first walker's body fell to the ground, Michonne brought the katana back for a return swing.
SHLUKK!
The katana sliced through the second walker's temple and exited the other side; the top of the walker's head flew off its skull like it had been struck by a heavy breeze, and pieces of brain matter flew with it; the dead walker fell to its knees and then fell onto its right side. Michonne spun the katana in her hand so the blade was pointed down, and drove it into the decapitated skull of the first walker.
SHLUKK!
Glenn and Maggie glanced at each other as the herd staggered closer. "Here we go again, huh?" the young Korean asked his fiancée.
"Yeah, you need to find a new place to take me on our dates," Maggie smiled.
Glenn chuckled nervously at Maggie's joke and looked at the approaching, growling walkers. The closet one was a male who had lost a couple of fingers on his hands and had chunks of flesh bitten out of his shoulders and his chest.
Glenn swung his parang at the walker's head, but it raised its right arm to deflect the blow.
SVASSH!
The parang cut off the walker's right hand; it stopped and looked at the stump of its right arm in apparent disbelief. Glenn used the opportunity to swing the parang at the walker's head.
THROK!
The parang cut into the walker's temple, and Glenn wrenched the weapon out of the dead walker's skull and it fell onto the gravel road with a loud thud.
Maggie's breath started fogging up the visor on her helmet, but could see a young female walker in front of her with blood caked lips that looked like it had overdone her lipstick. The female walker growled and made a grab for the hatchet in Maggie's right hand. Maggie shrieked in fear as she and the female walker struggled over the weapon, but she kept her cool and kicked the female walker in the stomach, which sent it reeling backwards. Maggie raised the hatchet and brought it down on top of the female walker's head.
WHUKK!
The female walker shook as the impact from the axe blade traveled down its spine. Maggie pried the axe's blade free and the dead female walker fell onto the field.
•••
"Don't be afraid of it, Alicia! It's not human! It's not even alive!" Michael shouted encouragingly.
Alicia tightened her grip on the broomstick as the fat walker took one final step at her, and she thrust the sharp end of the broomstick at the walker's face.
SHUKK!
The sharp point of the broomstick went through the fat walker's right eye and exited out the back of its head. Alicia yelled as she pulled the broomstick out of the dead walker's eye socket, and its face fell against the chain link. Alicia watched coldly as the dead walker's weight began to pull it to the ground and it wound up in a sitting position against the chain link fence.
"You killed it, Alicia! You killed it!" Michael shouted enthusiastically as he pumped his fists into the air.
Alicia glared down at the dead, fat walker and said nothing.
•••
Rick swung the Gerber Gator Machete at a young male walker wearing a Star Wars T-shirt. The blade got struck in the crook of the walker's shoulder and the impact drove it to the ground, but Rick couldn't pry the blade free. The male walker grabbed the blade, rose slowly to its feet, and growled at Rick angrily.
Rick gave the blade a desperate pull, but the walker had a firm grip on it. Fear crept onto Rick's face as the walker growled at him angrily.
"Let go!" Michonne shouted.
Rick let go of the machete's handle without questioning the order, and stumbled backwards as Michonne stepped past him and thrust her katana at the male walker's face.
SHLUKK!
The tip of the katana pierced the male walker's right eye, and its growling stopped and its hands dropped from the machete's blade. Michonne withdrew her sword, and the dead walker fell backwards, knocking down a short, female walker that had stepped behind it; the two walkers fell onto the ground, and Michonne stepped forward, spun the katana in her hand so the bloody tip was pointed at the growling short female walker that was now lying underneath the dead male walker, and drove the blade into its left eye.
SHLUKK!
The female walker's mouth clamped shut like a steel trap, and Michonne pulled her katana free.
"Thank you," Rick said gratefully.
"Get the machete free, you'll need it," Michonne replied as she glared at the approaching walkers.
Rick shrugged his shoulders and ran forward to retrieve the machete; he pulled on the handle a few times until the blade came free and he stumbled backwards a second time until he regained his footing.
BLAM!
The gunshot echoed across the prison and the machete in Rick's hand suddenly felt heavy as a claymore. Stay here and guard the guns and ammo, he told Carl earlier.
Rick spun around and looked uphill at the prison, but he couldn't see Carl from this angle. Rick looked up at the destroyed guard tower and saw Daryl and Carol looking in the direction of Cell Block D. "Daryl!" he shouted.
The group's hunter looked down at Rick.
"Car…Carl…" Rick stammered worriedly.
"He's fine!" Daryl shouted with his left hand cupped against his mouth. "He just stopped some assholes from stealin' the guns!"
"Did…did he…?"
"No, must've shot in the air!"
Rick lowered his head and sighed with relief that Carl was all right and he didn't kill anyone to guard the firearms.
"A little help, Rick?" Michonne asked curtly as she decapitated a limping walker.
Rick turned around, and remembered the walkers staggering towards the fence. He tightened his grip on the Gerber Gator Machete and returned to the fight.
•••
"Donna!" John shouted in relief as his frightened wife greeted him with open arms.
"John! Oh, John!" Donna cried as she threw her arms around her husband.
John and Donna embraced and he held her tighter than he had so many years ago when they were sweethearts and he got off the plane from Vietnam. "Thank God you're all right," he muttered into her shoulder.
"Floyd said walkers were coming out of the woods," Donna said after she and John separated.
"What about Rick and his people?" John asked.
"I don't know!" Donna answered.
"Where the fuck is Floyd?!"
"He ran into the cell block; most of our people went with him."
John looked around the courtyard, and his eyes stopped at the laundry cart filled with guns. Rick brought the guns out in case walkers appeared and overran the fence line; his son Carl was standing beside the cart with a gun in his hand and looking worriedly at the fence line.
"Stay here," John ordered Donna as he ran past her.
•••
Carl's heart was thumping in his chest as he saw more walkers staggered out of the tree line; he couldn't see his father or his group fighting them off, but he could hear the walkers' growling hungrily along with the sounds of blades cutting into skulls and the Woodburians shouting angrily at the top of their lungs. Carl looked up at the ruined watch tower on the courtyard and saw Daryl and Carol atop it; Daryl shot another arrow into the herd below, while Carol stood beside him, with a hunting rifle in her hands.
The sound of running footsteps arose in Carl's ears and he looked at the courtyard to see John Boyd running towards him. Carl almost raised his pistol at the old man, but suddenly remembered his father telling him, "John and I worked out our differences. If he needs a firearm, let him take one."
John slowed down his running as he approached Carl. "Save the bullets for the walkers, son," he advised.
Carl stepped aside as the Vietnam veteran stepped passed him and took an M4A1 rifle out of the laundry cart.
"My dad said you, Karen, and Sasha are the only ones outside the group that can take a gun," Carl said.
"Good. Because the rest of my group can't shoot for shit," John replied, as he ejected the 30 round magazine, checked that it was loaded, and returned it to the rifle's receiver. The M4A1 was a descendant of the M16, the assault rifle he carried in Vietnam. When John and Donna settled in Woodbury, he volunteered to join Merle's security team, but the Governor said they had enough people already. When John said he was a veteran, the Governor thanked him for his service, and suggested he go to his new apartment and catch up on his reading. Now, John looked at the rifle in his hands and grinned despite the dire situation.
John slung the M4A1 over his shoulder and peered inside the laundry cart for a spare magazine; he soon saw them in a plastic tub in a corner of the cart; he reached down, took a magazine, and tucked it in a rear pocket.
"Are you going to help my dad?" Carl asked suspiciously.
John unslung the M4A1 from his shoulder and looked at Carl. "You bet. He gave me a chance to really help my group, the least I can do is save his ass."
Carl found John's words encouraging and he smiled. John smiled back and he ran across the courtyard and downhill to the fence line.
•••
A tall, male walker with six bullet holes in its bare chest growled at Rick as it reached out to grasp him. Rick ducked and the walker's arms circled harmlessly above him. Rick thrust his machete at the walker's jaw as he stood up.
SHUKK!
The tip of the machete's blade tore through the bottom of the tall walker's jaw and shot up into its skull where it tore through its brain. The dead walker froze still, and when Rick pulled the machete free, it fell onto a small pile of dead walkers he and Michonne had put down.
"Hey, Rick! We're winning!" Glenn cheered with a thumb up in the air.
Rick looked to his left and his right as the Woodburians that stayed at the fence line thrust their homemade spears into the walkers' foreheads. Rick looked at Glenn again and he nodded in agreement.
Glenn grinned until he saw a heavyset female walker staggering towards him. Glenn swung the parang and the blow knocked the female walker to the ground. Glenn knelt down beside the prone walker and bludgeoned its head with the parang until its skull burst open and the brain was destroyed.
"Rick!" Daryl shouted from above.
Rick had just killed another walker when he heard Daryl's voice. He looked up at the ruined guard tower on the courtyard and saw Daryl pointing down at the gravel road. Rick looked and saw John Boyd running down the gravel road with an M4A1 rifle in his hands. "Oh, my God," Rick whispered in shock.
John stopped in front of the prison squad car and brought the M4A1 up to his shoulder. "Everybody get down!" he shouted as he took aim.
Glenn looked over his shoulder and saw John aiming a rifle at the walkers. "Uh oh," he muttered. A second later Glenn looked at Maggie and tackled her by her feet.
"Hey!" Maggie shouted as she fell to the ground.
"Stay down!" Glenn pleaded as he shielded his fiancée with his own body.
"No, don't shoot—!" Rick shouted before Michonne grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the ground.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
The first shots struck the leading row of walkers in their heads and they crumpled dead to the ground. As John continued firing, his aim worsened and most of the bullets hit the remaining walkers in their shoulders or chests, so they fell down, got back up, and continued staggering or crawling forward.
"Hold your fire! You'll just bring more walkers!" Rick shouted angrily as he tried to stand up, but Michonne pinned him down.
CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!
John ejected the empty magazine and reached for the spare magazine in his back pocket.
"Hold your fire!" Rick shouted as he struggled to throw Michonne off him.
John loaded the spare magazine into the M4A1's receiver, pulled back on the charging handle, brought the rifle up to his shoulder and took aim again.
"No!" Rick pleaded.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
The bullets struck the last of the walkers in their heads and they fell dead to the ground. John lowered the M4A1, and looked satisfied at the carnage he wrought. A few moments later Glenn and Maggie sat up in the field. Michonne stood up, but Rick sprang up and glared at John while the Woodburians along the fence line looked at John in awe. Atop the ruined guard tower, Daryl and Carol watched like two ravens resting atop a tree after a battle between two Viking armies.