CHAPTER 19
Carl screamed in horror as he tried to break free from Sora's grip, but the Japanese gambler pinned him tightly under his arm as he ran with his katana in his right hand and its scabbard in his left hand. Harold was a few feet behind them, holding his assault rifle and his pistol in his arms like they were logs for a fireplace. Frankie was a few feet behind, trying desperately to catch up.
Rick was several feet behind the four of them but he was catching up quickly. Rick held his Colt Python revolver in his hand tightly, and he puffed air in an out of his mouth like a locomotive running at full steam. A few feet behind Rick was Michonne, her katana slung over her back and her hooded cape billowing behind her.
"Carl!" Rick shouted as he saw his son trying to break free from Sora's grip.
"Dad!" Carl replied.
Sora looked over his shoulder and saw Rick chasing him and his two loyal associates. He then looked over at Frankie and shouted, "Kill him!"
Frankie spun around, aimed his HK UMP45 submachine gun at Rick, and pulled the trigger.
At the same time Frankie opened fire Rick leaped forward, landed on the courtyard, and covered his head with his arms.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
The .45 ACP bullets flew harmlessly over Rick and Michonne, and continued flying over the courtyard.
•••
Daryl, the Woodbury group, and the El Dorado group ducked when they heard the automatic fire coming from the El Dorado, and moments later the bullets Frankie had fired lost their velocity, struck the courtyard and ricocheted around them.
Tyreese put his arm around Karen's shoulders, pulled her to the ground with him, and shielded her with his own body from the ricocheting bullets while Karen screamed in horror. A few seconds later the bullets finally embedded themselves into the nearest parked vehicles or flew into air harmlessly.
Julia had just sat up after Sora knocked her down to the ground in his dash towards the El Dorado, when the bullets that Frankie fired hit the pavement a few feet behind her. Julia fell onto her side and screamed in fear.
When the ricocheting bullets stopped, Daryl looked back at the El Dorado and saw Rick getting back to his feet, while Michonne ran past him and chased after Sora (who was holding Carl) and his two flunkies. Daryl stood up, held his Stryker Strykezone 380 crossbow with its barrel pointed in the air, and grabbed Julia's arm gently.
"You okay?" Daryl asked as he pulled the frightened young woman to her feet.
"He's going to kill us!" Julia screamed with tears running down her face.
"That jackass was aiming at Rick, but he missed! Rick and Michonne will take care of him and your boss. But we have to hold back the walkers. You ever use that street howitzer?"
Julia looked down at the ground at her Ithaca 37 "Stakeout" shotgun (which was lying next to Carl's battered Stetson hat and his Beretta 92FS pistol). "A few times," she answered.
"Good. Now listen," Daryl ordered.
Julia nodded and wiped the tears away from her eyes.
"The shotgun's no good unless you shoot it a point blank range. Pick it up and wait for me to give the word."
Julia nodded again and Daryl let go of her arm. Julia picked up her shotgun.
Daryl looked at the Woodburian group and the El Dorado group, still lying on the pavement after the ricochets had stopped. Daryl whistled, and they all looked up at him.
"Get up and form a skirmish line!" Daryl ordered.
"You okay?" Tyreese asked as he raised himself off Karen slightly.
Karen pushed against Tyreese's chest, forcing him off her completely. "What the hell were you thinking?" she asked angrily.
Tyreese blinked. "I…I was trying to save your life," he answered.
"I can take care of myself," Karen said curtly as she grabbed her M4A1 rifle and stood up.
"Uh, I know you can," Tyreese said with surprise at Karen's aggressive behavior.
Karen looked Tyreese over. "Hey! Where's your shotgun?" she asked.
Tyreese looked down at his body as if Karen had pointed out he was wearing a name sticker. "Uh, I left it on the ground," he answered.
"Pick it up, you idiot!" Karen ordered as she looked at the approaching herd and raised her rifle up to her shoulder.
Tyreese looked at the ground quickly for his Mossberg 500 shotgun, spotted it, picked it up, and brought it up to his shoulder.
Karen glanced at Tyreese out of the corner of her eye. "Hey…did you even rack a shell in the chamber?" she asked in an annoyed voice.
Tyreese looked at the pump underneath the shotgun's barrel, racked it, and heard the infamous "KA-CHOOK" of a shell entering the shotgun's chamber. Tyreese smiled at Karen bashfully.
"Did you leave the safety on?"
Tyreese lowered the shotgun and saw that its safety was in the "on" position. "Uh, my bad," he muttered.
Karen shook her head contemptuously at Tyreese's clumsiness with firearms, and went back to aiming down the iron sights of her rifle. Tyreese faced the herd, took a deep breath, and waited for the dead to stagger within range.
Lying down on his stomach, John looked at the El Dorado casino, and saw Frankie turn around run to catch up to his boss. "Son of a bitch," he muttered angrily.
Sam and Juan were lying down on their stomachs nearby John, but they were staring at Floyd's corpse, which was lying on its back with a bullet hole right between his eyes.
John sat up, looked to his left, and grabbed Sam by the collar of his jacket. "Get up!" he ordered as he pulled his friend up along with himself.
"Floyd's dead!" Sam cried.
John glanced at Floyd's corpse. "Yeah," he agreed.
"Dixon killed Floyd!"
"Forget him. We've got more important shit to deal with!"
Sam looked to his right and his eyes widened at the sight of the slowly approaching herd. "Oh, fuck!" he cried.
John drew his Colt M1911A1 pistol and took aim at the herd. "Don't shit your pants, Sam, we're going to need every gun we've got."
Sam picked up the Beretta 92FS pistol that he dropped earlier and flipped the safety to its "off" position. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he pleaded as he aimed his pistol with a trembling hand.
"We leave no one behind," John said firmly.
"Hey, this ain't Vietnam, John."
John started to laugh and he laughed so hard, he had to lower his pistol. "Are you kidding? These geeks are like the V.C.: they just keep on coming. The only difference is they're not shooting back!"
Sam stood alongside John and whipered, "You've got the keys to the Silverado, right? Let's take it."
John glared at Sam, and then looked at the herd. "No," he said firmly.
"What?!" Sam asked as he almost shouted into John's ear. "Why are you risking our asses for Rick? I thought you hated that son of a bitch!"
"I do. But that Jap kidnapped Rick's kid and Michonne's trying to help get him back. I can't leave the three of them behind, Sam. If I did, what would Donna think of me?"
Sam blinked in disbelief at John, but he turned towards the herd and raised his pistol at them again.
John looked over his shoulder and saw Juan, still lying on his stomach and staring at Floyd's body. "I hate to admit it, Juan, but we're going to need your help," he said.
Juan looked up at John and nodded; then he stood up with his Remington 870 shotgun in his hand. "I'm sorry, Floyd," he whispered sadly.
A moment later, Juan rushed over to John's left side, racked a shell into his shotgun's chamber, and thumbed the safety to the "off" position like Tyreese had done with his own shotgun moments before.
A skirmish line was formed, and Daryl looked behind him to see Rick and Michonne were now running side-by-side towards the El Dorado, Daryl held his crossbow at the ready and rushed forward to face the herd.
•••
Frankie grimaced when his shots flew over Rick, so he spun around and began running towards the El Dorado. "Fuck!" he shouted angrily.
"Did you kill him?" Sora asked as he looked over his shoulder.
"No!" Frankie answered.
Sora narrowed his eyes and looked forward again.
•••
Rick got back to his feet just as Michonne ran past him, with her hooded cape billowing behind her.
"Hey, what're you doing?" Rick asked as he resumed running.
"I'm helping you!" Michonne answered without looking back.
"I don't need your help!"
"Really?"
Rick caught up to Michonne and said nothing.
•••
Carl smiled hopefully as he watched his father stand up and continue running to his rescue. An idea flashed through Carl's head and he pulled the sleeve back on Sora's black trench coat, exposing the skin of the Japanese gambler's wrist. Carl grabbed hold of Sora's forearm, leaned down quickly, and bit down hard on Sora's wrist with all his strength.
Sora screamed in agony and turned his body to the right so his left side (with Carl still biting onto his wrist) crashed into one of the closed pair of glass doors that made up the El Dorado's main entrance. Carl's forehead slammed into the glass door, and a second later Sora's weight slammed into his back, rendering him unconscious.
Rick eyes widened in horror as he saw how Sora attacked his son. "CARL!" he shouted in horror.
Frankie pointed his submachine gun behind his back and fired blindly.
BRAKKA!
Rick and Michonne fell to the pavement, but the shot flew high above their heads.
Sora took a step towards the set of open doors that Karen and Julia had been guarding while the supplies were carted to Rick's vehicles, and tossed the unconscious boy inside the vestibule. Sora then raised his left wrist and saw that Carl's bite had broken the skin, and his wrist was covered in blood.
Harold came to a stop beside Sora and saw the blood on his leader's wrist. "What the fuck happened to you?" he asked.
"I was bitten by a rodent," Sora answered with contempt.
Harold juggled with the firearms in his hands, but managed to holster his Glock 17 pistol. Harold caught a glimpse of a body inside the vestibule, and his eyes widened when he realized it was Carl.
"Jesus H. Christ! Did you kill him?" Harold asked.
"No," Sora answered as he sheathed his katana, "but I almost wish I had."
Harold turned to look again at the unconscious Carl, but an image in the glass door caught his attention.
The image was his reflection.
His beard and curly brown hair were unkempt, his eyes were still bloodshot from the whiskey-mixed coffee he had drank all night to stay awake and calm his nerves about Juan's story about the Governor.
I look like an animal, Harold thought. I accepted Juan's story without question; I repeated it to the others without saying anything to calm them down. When I saw Rick this morning I never asked for his side of the story. And I told Julia to give me Rick's kid when Miyaguchi decided to kill him.
Harold watched as Sora leaned his sheathed katana against the glass doors and dug inside his trench coat for a handkerchief.
I chose the wrong side, Harold admitted to himself. Miyaguchi's killed people in our group; people who I thought had it coming. But he threatened to cut of that kid's arm, and then he said he'd kill him in front of Rick, and I tried to help him do it! All because I want to get the hell out of this casino! Rick might be like this Governor Juan talked about, but Miyaguchi's no different from them…and now... neither am I.
Harold was shaken from his thoughts when someone bumped into his shoulder. Harold looked to his right and saw Frankie; he flinched when he saw the boot heel imprint on Frankie's face.
"What…what are…we going to…do now?" Frankie panted, with his hands on knees.
"We go inside the El Dorado, lock the doors, and wait for the Oni to kill them all," Sora answered as he wrapped the handkerchief around his wounded wrist.
Frankie pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "But Julia, Alonso and Nate—"
"They made their choice," Sora interrupted as he held his sheathed katana by its scabbard.
"No! We can't leave them out there!" Henry argued. "There's still time to—"
BANG!
A bullet struck the glass door to the left of Sora, missing his head by a couple of inches. The Japanese gambler and his two associates ducked and turned around to see Rick Grimes, standing on the courtyard, and aiming his revolver at them; Michonne was still laying on her stomach, looking at them.
"Freeze!" Rick ordered.
Sora grabbed his sheathed katana with his left hand and leaped inside the vestibule. "Kill him!" he ordered.
•••
Carl heard muffled, angry voices in the darkness. He opened his eyes, but everything was blurry. He sat up, rubbed his forehead, and groaned painfully. His vision started to clear, when a gunshot ran out and shards of glass rained down from the door to his right; the boy screamed, and threw his arms over his head.
Carl heard his father shout in the distance, "Freeze!"
Carl's heart started pounding in his chest, and he lowered his arms to see his father, but a dark shadow leapt in front of him and shouted, "Kill him!"
Carl looked up and saw Sora with his sheathed katana in his left hand, and a handkerchief wrapped around the wrist Carl had bitten into moments ago.
"Stand up," Sora ordered coldly.
"Fuck you!" Carl spat with all the hatred he could muster.
Sora leaned down and grabbed Carl by the collar of his jacket. "Stand up!" he repeated.
Sora pulled Carl to his feet, and the boy started throwing wild punches that struck Sora on his face and head. "Enough!" Sora ordered as he shook Carl like a rag doll.
The shaking made Carl dizzy and he went limp. Sora tightened his grip on the boy and started dragging him up the small staircase. As they entered the lobby Carl recovered and started punching Sora again.
"Let me go!" Carl shouted as he struck Sora on his right ear.
"I will not," Sora replied as he shook Carl again to make him cooperate. "You see my young friend, your father and I played a round of poker during our negotiations last night; I defeated your father in that round and I shall defeat him again."
•••
Harold dropped his assault carbine, looked at Rick, and raised his hands into the air, "Don't shoot!"
Frankie looked at Rick too, but he aimed his submachinegun and opened fire. Rick's eyes widened at the sight of the submachinegun's muzzle and leapt forward like he was diving into a swimming pool.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
Rick hit the pavement hard as the bullets flew overhead.
"Rick!" Michonne cried fearfully.
"I'm all right," Rick grumbled painfully.
CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!
Frankie looked perplexed at his submachine gun and realized it had run empty. "Shit," he whispered.
Rick looked up, ignored the pain from his landing, and sprung to a kneeling positing. "Drop the gun!" he ordered as he aimed his Colt Python at Frankie.
Frankie looked up at Rick, and saw the muzzle of that big Colt Python revolver. "Holy shit," he said.
"We give up!" Harold shouted as he stretched his arms up higher into the air.
Frankie dropped his submachine gun, and grabbed the handle of his HK USP Compact pistol holstered to his side.
"Don't go for that gun!" Rick ordered.
"Frankie, no!" Harold pleaded.
Frankie drew his pistol and aimed it at Rick.
Rick pulled the trigger of his Colt Python revolver.
BLAM!
The .357 magnum bullet struck Frankie in the center of his chest, and flew him back against the closed glass door.
Harold ducked at the sound of the gunshot, and when he looked up, he saw Frankie inhale his last breath, exhale it slowly, and die with a shocked expression frozen on his bruised face.
"Put your hands on top of your head, Harold!" Rick ordered.
Harold looked down at his hands, and saw he'd inadvertently grabbed the assault carbine he dropped earlier. Harold now looked at the open door that Sora had taken Rick's son through, and he sprang towards it.
BLAM!
Rick fired a shot and Harold heard it tear through his open jacket. Harold fell to the vestibule floor with a thud, but he got on his feet, ran up the small staircase and entered the lobby.
"Did you hit him?" Michonne asked Rick as she got to her feet.
"I don't think so," Rick answered.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
Rick and Michonne turned around at the sound of the gunfire and saw Daryl had organized the Woodburian group and the El Dorado group into a skirmish line, and they were shooting into the herd of walkers.
"They'll run out of ammo before they kill all those walkers," Rick said.
"We have to hurry," Michonne replied as she started running towards the El Dorado
"How are you going to help me rescue Carl?" Rick asked as he caught up to Michonne. "You don't have your gun!"
"I gave it to you when I came back from Woodbury. What did you do with it?"
"Uh, I…left it in my cell."
Michonne thought about her imaginary confrontation with the Governor as the town of Woodbury burned down around them.
"So are you going to shoot me?" The imaginary Governor asked. "That would be too quick. But if I remember my first visit to the prison correctly, your aim isn't very good."
Michonne looked at Rick and grinned. "Forget about it. I'm a lousy shot anyway,"
Rick and Michonne slowed down as they reached the front entrance to the El Dorado. Rick looked down at Frankie's corpse and thought He'll turn at any minute.
Rick aimed his Colt Python at Frankie's head, thumbed the hammer back, and pulled the trigger.
BLAM!
The bullet went through Frankie's forehead, burst out of his skull, and shattered the glass panel his head was leaning against.
Michonne reached over her shoulder, drew her katana, and stood against the left side of the open door. Rick stood on the right side of the open door, broke open his Colt Python, replaced the three spent cases in the cylinder with the loose ammunition he kept inside his shirt pocket, and closed the cylinder into the Python's frame.
Rick leaned inside the vestibule and heard two voices in the lobby: Harold's and Sora's. Suddenly, Carl shouted out, "Da—!"
To Rick, it sounded like Sora put a hand over Carl's mouth. The thought of Sora assaulting Carl a second time made his blood boil. Rick looked at Michonne, and signaled that he would enter the vestibule first; Michonne nodded.
Rick aimed his Colt Python into the vestibule, stepped inside, and walked up the small staircase cautiously; a moment later Michonne followed him.
•••
BRAKKA!
Daryl, the Woodbury group, and the El Dorado group, ducked at the sound of a second round of gunfire from the El Dorado; fortunately the shot was high in the air, and after it flew over their heads, it lost its velocity and descended into the oncoming herd of walkers.
"I don't want to die!" Sam cried.
"I don't want you shooting me by accident," John shouted as he forced Sam's gun hand to aim at the pavement. "Keep your finger off the damn trigger!"
"Ya'll need to stop worryin' about what's goin' on behind us, and worry about the walkers in front of us!" Daryl ordered.
"I…I don't think we can kill all of them," Julia stammered as she watched the oncoming herd.
"We can't," Daryl agreed. "We just have to hold 'em back until Rick and the others get back!"
"What if Rick leaves us out here for bait?" Sam asked.
Daryl glared at Sam, while the others looked at him worriedly.
"Look around, people: we're in a goddamn parking lot! There're lots of vehicles for Rick to hotwire and drive away in with his kid and Michonne while the biters tear all of us to pieces!"
Daryl leapt towards Sam.
Hey, what're you—?" John asked.
Daryl pushed John out of the way, grabbed Sam by the collar of his jacket, and pulled him to his feet. "Rick left my brother Merle handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta, but he went back for him! He could've left ya'll to fend for yourselves in Woodbury, but he didn't! Carl told ya'll that back at the prison, or did you forget that?"
Sam quivered in Daryl's grip, and said nothing.
John thumbed the hammer back on his Colt M1911A1 and aimed the pistol at Daryl. "Listen, I don't give a fuck about the both you, but we're going to need every able body against those geeks."
Daryl looked at John, and looked back at Sam. A moment later, Daryl let go of Sam, who brushed off his jacket as if he bumped into a homeless man.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
The automatic gunfire from the El Dorado started up again. Daryl, the Woodbury group, and the El Dorado group looked in the direction of the casino and saw Frankie throw down his submachine gun and draw his pistol, while Rick, (who was in a combat stance) aimed his revolver and shouted at the young man.
BLAM!
Rick's shot hit Frankie in the chest, killing him. Rick was now shouting at Harold, who knelt beside his dead comrade, but the truck driver ignored Rick and leapt inside the El Dorado.
BLAM!
Rick fired a shot at Harold, but no one could tell if it was a hit. Rick and Michonne stood up and continued running towards the El Dorado.
"At least Rick got one of those bastards," Daryl muttered as he stared at Frankie's distant, dead corpse.
"They're pissed off now!" Karen shouted.
Everyone spun around and saw the herd of walkers staggering ever closer, their flesh decaying on their bones, their golden eyes burning with rage, their mouths growling with hunger, and their bloodstained hands reaching out to grab the living.
"Get ready!" Daryl shouted at the Woodburian group and the El Dorado group.
The two groups reformed the skirmish line and aimed their rifles, shotguns, or pistols at the herd. Daryl moved his crossbow to his left hand and reached behind the small of his back to be sure his Colt Official Police revolver was still there.
Karen looked over her shoulder at Daryl, who was walking along the back of the skirmish line. "Those biters are so close I can smell them!" she shouted with disgust.
Daryl nodded. "Light 'em up!"
Karen looked down the iron sights of her M4A1 rifle, and pulled the trigger.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
The walker Karen shot was a female whose long, auburn hair was caked with blood and dirt. The 5.56 rounds shattered its head, destroyed the brain, and it fell to the pavement dead.
The Woodbury group and the El Dorado group opened fire. The heads of the walkers in the front line burst open like water balloons and their bodies fell to the pavement never to rise again. The walkers behind them stepped over their corpses and the herd continued on slowly.
The first aimed shots had been fired, and marksmanship began to suffer, especially with Tyreese, Julia, Nate, and Sam. A bullet or shotgun pellets would strike a walker in the chest, or shatter a jaw, but they continued to stagger forward.
"I'm out of ammo!" Karen shouted.
Daryl pulled out his Colt Police revolver, and ran towards Karen. "Get back!" he ordered.
Karen stepped out of the skirmish line, and Daryl took her place. He aimed his gun at a young male walker that had tattoos covering his neck and arms.
BLAM!
The .38 Special bullet struck the tattooed walker in the forehead, it fell to his knees, and then fell face first onto the pavement, dead.
The second walker Daryl aimed at was a female, and its gold necklace stood out amongst its rotting grey flesh and blood stained mouth.
BLAM!
The bullet struck the female walker in the forehead, and it collapsed to the pavement, dead.
Karen had ejected the empty magazine and loaded a new one into her rifle. "Reloaded!" she shouted.
Daryl glanced over his shoulder, nodded at Karen, and moved back so she could resume her place in the skirmish line.
The Woodbury group and the El Dorado group kept up their fire, and the herd kept on staggering forward.
"Aw shit! They're still coming!" Nate shouted fearfully.
"Just keep shootin', damn it!" Daryl ordered as he moved up and down the back of the skirmish line with his gun in his right hand and his crossbow in his left,
Sam looked over his shoulder at the El Dorado, and the illusion of safety the new casino projected. "I'm out of here!" he shouted as left the skirmish line.
A hand grabbed Sam's shoulder, making the coward stop in his tracks. Sam turned around to see Daryl holding onto his shoulder tightly, and pointing the smoking barrel of his revolver at his face.
"If you bail on us, I'll throw your ass to those walkers!" Daryl warned.
Sam gulped fearfully and Daryl shoved him back into the skirmish line.
"Hey, Dixon, I might just take back all the shit I said about you!" John quipped as he loaded a new magazine into his pistol.
"Well, fuck you too, GI Joe!" Daryl grinned.
"We're gonna be overrun!" Tyreese shouted over the blast of his shotgun.
"Yeah," Daryl agreed as he began looking around the parking lot. "We're gonna need a new plan."
"You got one?!" Tyreese asked.
To his left, Daryl spotted a Humvee parked in the distance. He remembered before the world went to shit, how the Democrats and the college kids bitched about Humvees, 'Gas guzzlers' they called them.
Daryl tucked his gun against the small of his back and held his crossbow at the ready. "Cover me!" he shouted.
"Where are you going?" Tyreese asked.
"I've got a plan!" Daryl answered without looking back.
"Is it any good?"
"Maybe!"
Daryl ran in between the parked rows of automobiles and disappeared while the Woodbury group and the El Dorado group continued to put up a withering fire against the herd of walkers.