CHAPTER 24
Daryl sat in the driver's footwell of the Dodge Grand Caravan, scrapping off the insulation from the wires with his Busse Team Gemini knife. "How close are the walkers now?" he asked Alonso.
No answer.
Daryl looked out the open driver's side door and saw a blood trail leading from the Dodge Grand Caravan to the Mitsubishi Eclipse parked behind it. He leaned his head out the doorway and saw Alonso dragging Sam around the back of the Mitsubishi.
"What the fuck are you doin'?!" Daryl shouted.
"I'm trying to help this man!" Alonso answered.
"Are you Chef or House, M.D.?" Daryl quipped.
"I won't let him die!" Alonso shouted.
Daryl ducked back into the minivan and sat in the driver's seat and scrapped the rest of the insulation off the wires. The poor bastard's goin' to wish he was dead, he thought.
Daryl sheathed his knife, looked out the windshield again and saw the small group of walkers now staggering across the next row of cars; the rest of the herd was started growling and staggered forward.
Fuck! Daryl thought as he twisted the bare wires together. I've got at least a buck fifty before those walkers are on my ass.
Alonso laid Sam down behind the Mitsubishi Eclipse, and the wounded man flinched and opened his eyes. Alonso sat down and put the wounded man's head in his lap. "It's okay, amigo. It's okay," he promised.
"I…I can't believe…what I just did," Sam stammered weakly.
Alonso said nothing and held onto Sam like a lost child holds a stuffed animal.
"Hey, do…me a favor, okay?" Sam asked.
"Ci?"
Sam stared up at Alonso; his complexion began to turn pale. "Kill me," he whispered.
Alonso shook his head. "No. That's a sin."
"What? Are you…afraid…of…God's Judgement? I think…God's judged all of us…a while ago."
Tears began to well in Alonso's eyes, and then he heard a voice shout, "Sam!"
Alonso looked up and saw Juan running towards him and Sam, with a shotgun in his hand.
Juan slid along the courtyard and came to a stop alongside Sam and Alonso. When Juan saw his friend's wound, he shut his eyes and grimaced with imaginary pain like Amare did earlier.
"What…what happened?" Juan asked.
"I…shot…" Sam stammered before his voice faded away.
"It was an accident," Alonso explained as the tears ran down his face.
Juan opened his eyes and looked at Alonso. "Did you see it?" he asked.
"No. I was standing in front of him and "Blam!" I heard the gunshot," Amare answered.
"I'm dying," Sam said weakly.
Juan looked down at Sam and touched his shoulder. "No you're not, amigo. We'll get you back to the prison; Hershel will patch you up. I promise."
Sam looked up at Juan and managed to smile in agreement.
An engine rumbled to life suddenly; Juan and Alonso looked to their right to see Daryl lean his head out the Dodge Caravan's open door.
"You boys sit tight! Savvy?" Daryl ordered.
The driver's side door slammed shut, and a second later, the minivan peeled out of the row.
Juan leapt to his feet. "Hey!" he shouted.
The minivan then made a right turn down the parking lot, leaving Juan, Alonso, and the wounded Sam a clear view of the oncoming herd of walkers.
"He's leaving us here!" Juan cried in disbelief.
"No, he's not!" a voice shouted.
Juan looked to his left and saw Rick running towards him with his Colt Python revolver in his hand.
•••
Michonne stepped onto the Dodge Ram 1500's foot rail, unlocked the driver's side door, opened it, and pressed the button on the keypad to unlock the other doors. "Get in!" she shouted to Carl, Julia, and Nate.
Carl, Julia, and Nate ran around the pickup truck; Carl opened the passenger's side door, climbed in, and shut the door. Nate opened the rear passenger door, stepped aside so Julia could climb in, then he stepped inside and shut the door.
Michonne leaned inside the truck, placed the Glock 17 pistol on the dashboard; then she stood outside the truck again, unslung her katana, and slid it into the back seat. Michonne then sat in the driver's seat and closed the driver's side door.
Carl looked around the truck's interior and saw his father's M4A1 rifle was still behind the driver's seat (Rick had put it there before they loaded the supplies into the truck bed). There was a tote bag with the El Dorado logo printed on it laying on the passenger's footwell. Carl picked up the tote bag, opened it, and found his father's Glock 19 pistol along with its detached Maglite suppressor and his own aluminum baseball bat suppressor.
Carl reached into the satchel and took out the Glock 19 pistol. I can use this gun to help Dad, he thought, I can get out of this truck and go help him and Daryl.
"Stay in the truck, Carl," Michonne ordered as she buckled her seat belt.
Carl looked at Michonne, who was now putting the keys in the ignition. He dropped the pistol back into the satchel, and buckled his seat belt.
"Are you okay, Julia?" Michonne asked as she looked over her shoulder.
The cocktail waitress wiped tears away from her face but she nodded.
"Then put the shotgun down and buckle up."
Julia nodded again, and she put the shotgun down in the footwell beside Michonne's sheathed katana and Rick's M4A1 rifle; she then buckled her seat belt.
Michonne stepped on the brake, turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. "Hold on," she ordered her passengers. A moment later Michonne put the truck in drive, and drove slowly along the courtyard.
Behind the Dodge Ram 1500, Tyreese and Karen climbed into the bread truck. A moment later the engine started and the bread truck followed the pickup truck.
Inside the Chevy Silverado, John watched as Michonne lead Tyreese and Karen through the parking lot, and then he looked at Rick talking to Juan. "Good luck to you both," he said.
Michonne turned to the left and drove off the courtyard and onto the parking lot. She spotted a lane that was clear of abandoned cars or bodies and took a second left. A minute later the Michonne and Carl drove up the exit ramp, with Tyreese and Karen a few feet behind them in the bread truck. Michonne looked out the driver's side window and saw Rick talking to Juan as the Daryl in the Dodge Grand Caravan sped around the parking row and up to the two men while the herd of walkers staggered ever closer to them.
•••
Juan looked at Rick running towards him and then he looked down at his Remington 870 shotgun lying on the ground beside Sam; his hands started to sweat. So is this how it'll end? Juan thought. Rick's going to shoot me and the chef, but leave Sam alive as bait for the demons while he and Dixon make their escape.
Rick slowed down as he approached Juan, and when he looked down at Sam, and saw that Sam had indeed shot himself in the groin, Rick shut his eyes and turned his head in the other direction.
"You're a cop. You've must've seen plenty of gunshots. Is he going to live?" Alonso asked.
Rick looked down at Alonso and saw the concern in the chef's eyes. "I think so," he answered quickly.
Alonso smiled and gave Sam an encouraging hug. Sam moaned like a drunk sleeping off a bender. Rick looked to his left: a handful of walkers were staggering ahead of the rest of the herd, and were getting dangerously close.
Rick knelt down and shook Alonso's shoulder. "We need to apply a tourniquet on Sam before he bleeds to death. Take your belt and tie it around his waist."
Alonso nodded; he stood up, unbuckled his U.S. Army web belt and let it fall to the ground, he then unbuckled his waist belt, slipped it around Sam's waist, and cinched it tightly.
"Where's John?" Juan asked as he looked at courtyard.
"In the Chevy," Rick answered as he pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "If things go badly, we go to him."
"When have things ever been good?"
Rick stood up, glared at Juan but said nothing.
"What about Harold?" Alonso asked as he sat down and put Sam's head in his lap again.
Rick thought about Harold: quiet and strong; a man who saw the El Dorado group as family and worked hard to protect them; he thought he had just lost them all and it broke him, so he took his pistol and "opted out", as Dr. Edwin Jenner would've put it. Rick looked down at Alonso again. "I'm sorry," he said.
A tear ran down Alonso's face and that tear turned into a flood, and a moment later the chef of the El Dorado sat crying on the parking lot for his dead friend while he held a wounded stranger in his arms.
"How did he die?" Juan asked accusingly. "Did that gambler kill him? Or was it a demon, or was it you?"
"Do you want details at a time like this?" he quipped.
The sounds of engines starting up made Rick look behind him. He saw Michonne and Carl driving across the courtyard in the Dodge Ram 1500, a moment later Tyreese and Karen followed them in the bread truck.
"Hey! Where the hell are they going?" Juan asked as he pointed at the two vehicles.
"It's all right," Rick said reassuringly, "they'll meet us on the—"
"They're leaving us too?!" Juan asked as his voice grew louder and angrier.
Rick's patience finally reached its limit; he grabbed Juan by the shirt collar and pulled the handyman towards him. "Nobody is getting left behind!" he spat into Juan's face. "Michonne's taking the others to the highway because the herd is marching back here!"
Just then, the sound of a vehicle making a sharp turn up made Rick look over Juan's shoulder: it was Daryl, in the Dodge Grand Caravan, speeding towards them.
The Dodge Grand Caravan screeched to a stop and a second later the driver's side door opened and Daryl jumped out with his Stryker Strikezone 380 crossbow in hand.
Rick nodded at Daryl, and Daryl nodded back. Rick then glared at Juan and shoved him backwards. "Don't bother to say you're sorry," he grumbled.
Juan looked at Rick frightfully as he smoothed down his rumpled shirt with the palms of his hands.
Daryl ran past Juan and stood beside Rick. "Carl?" he asked hopefully.
Rick raised his left hand to signal a pause. "He was roughed up, but he's fine. He and Michonne are in the truck."
"And the Jap?"
"Michonne took care of him."
"Good," Daryl said as he nodded with satisfaction.
Juan looked to his right and saw the small group of walkers staggering forward with the herd a few feet behind them. "The demons!" he shouted fearfully as he pointed at the approaching corpses.
Rick took a few steps until he stood in the spot the Dodge Grand Caravan once occupied and aimed his service revolver at the herd. "Get Sam into the minivan now!" he ordered.
"It's unlocked. Vamos!" Daryl shouted as he ran to Rick's right side. The redneck moved his crossbow to his left hand, and he reached behind the small of his back with his right hand, drew his Colt Official Police revolver, and aimed it at the walkers.
Alonso gently moved Sam's head off his lap and then took the wounded man in his arm. "Open the door!" he shouted.
Juan ran to the Dodge Grand Caravan, and slid open the rear passenger door. Alonso stood up with Sam in his arms and rushed towards the minivan while droplets of blood fell to the ground.
Rick aimed at a male walker that was bald and naked except for the skull and dagger tattoo on its chest.
BLAM!
The .357 caliber bullet struck the naked male walker's forehead and exited the back of its head; blood along with pieces of skull and brain matter, sprayed the faces of the walkers that were around it. The male walker fell to the ground dead, but the others continued to stagger forward.
Daryl aimed at a skeletal walker that wore a dirty business suit.
BLAM!
The .38 Special bullet struck the skeletal walker in the forehead, and as it fell forward, its right eye fell out of its socket and was squished when the walker's skull hit the ground.
Alonso climbed inside the minivan and laid Sam across the rear folding seats. He looked over his shoulder at Juan and shouted, "Get in!"
Juan looked to his right at his Remington 870 shotgun lying in front of the minivan, and then he turned around and looked at Alonso's U.S. Army web belt with the Beretta M9 pistol inside its holster. "Just a second!" he shouted.
Juan ignored his shotgun and ran over to Alonso's U.S. Army web belt; he scooped it up into his arms and ran back to the minivan.
Rick took aim at a black male walker whose face was splattered with the blood and brain matter from the naked male walker Rick had shot moments ago.
BLAM!
The bullet struck the black male walker in the forehead and exited the back of its head; splattering more blood and brain matter onto the faces of the other walker, while the black itself fell backwards and landed on the ground, dead.
Daryl took aim at a young male walker who had a dozen small, long cuts on its face like it ran through a plate glass window.
BLAM!
The bullet struck the young male walker in its forehead; it fell forward and its head split open like an egg when it struck the front bumper of the Toyota Corolla parked beside the empty spot where Daryl and Rick stood.
"Daryl!" Rick shouted as he looked at his lieutenant.
Daryl looked at Rick.
"Get on your bike! We're getting out of here!"
Daryl nodded and ran towards the courtyard. Rick holstered his Colt Python revolver and ran towards the Dodge Grand Caravan, where Juan, Alonso, and Sam were waiting inside.
"Where's Rick?" Alonso asked as he slid the rear passenger door closed.
"Right there," Juan answered with a nod.
Rick ran around the front of the Dodge Grand Caravan, opened the driver's side door, climbed inside, and shut the door. He gave Juan an angry glare, and the Latino handyman clutched the holstered gun to his chest tightly.
"How's Sam doing?" Rick asked as he looked over his shoulder.
Alonso sat in the passenger seat on the left side and answered, "Not so good."
"Watch him. If he dies we'll have to put him down."
"No!" Juan shouted.
"Shut up!" Rick ordered.
Juan kept quiet, and he looked down at the holstered pistol in his hands. Rick put the Dodge Grand Caravan in reverse, stepped on the gas pedal, and looked over his shoulder as he sped the minivan away from the herd.
•••
Daryl reached the piles of dead walkers he and the other survivors had shot down earlier, and for the second time did his best to run across them without twisting an ankle.
John, sitting in the driver's seat of the Dodge Silverado, saw Daryl running across the piles of dead walkers; he lowered the driver's side window, leaned his head out and put his hand alongside his mouth. "Is Sam still alive?!" he asked.
"I don't know!" Daryl answered as he leaped off the last pile of dead walkers and landed on the courtyard.
John grumbled angrily, and then he sat back into the driver's seat, and rolled the window up.
Daryl ran over to his Triumph Bonneville chopper motorcycle; he holstered his revolver (he'd left the gun belt wrapped around the motorcycle's handlebars) and slung his crossbow over his back. Daryl mounted his motorcycle, put the key in the ignition and turned it; the engine roared to life. Daryl swiped the kickstand up with his foot, revved up the bike, and he rode it across the courtyard and onto the parking lot.
Inside the Dodge Silverado, John put the pickup truck in drive, and followed Daryl.
Once Daryl rode onto the parking lot, he quickly saw a clear lane on his left, so he made the turn and rode towards the exit ramp. Rick and the others in the Dodge Grand Caravan reached the exit ramp before Daryl did, and with John bringing up the rear, the sheriff's deputy led them up to the highway while the herd staggered after the speeding vehicles.
•••
Michonne stopped the Dodge Ram 1500 on the highway and put the pickup truck in park. She looked out the driver's side window at the Aztec pyramid that was the El Dorado, looking majestic and new in the mid-day sun. She thought about Rick going over his plan with their skeptical group:
"I thought we could spend the night at the casino and return to the prison in the morning," he said.
"A lot can happen in forty-eight hours," Hershel replied.
"I know what can happen here: all of us starving to death," Michonne retorted.
Michonne shut her eyes and put her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose; she sighed wearily. I hope you don't say 'I told you so' Hershel, she thought.
Julia sat in the left rear passenger seat, her head bowed and her hands gripping the upholstery. Nate sat to her right and looked at her nervously. "Julia? Are you okay?" he asked.
Julia raised her head and looked at Nate. "Yeah," she nodded. "Yeah, I think so."
"Look!" Carl shouted happily.
Michonne opened her eyes and saw the Dodge Grand Caravan speeding towards the exit ramp. "Thank God," she said.
Carl opened the passenger door and leapt out of the pickup truck; a moment later Amare and Julia opened the rear passenger doors and climbed out too. Michonne picked up the Glock 17 pistol from the dashboard, opened the driver's side door, climbed out, and followed the three of them to the rear of the pickup truck.
Tyreese stopped the bread truck and parked a few feet behind the Dodge Ram 1500. He climbed out of the driver's side and Karen climbed out of the passenger side; only Karen climbed out with her M4A1 rifle in hand.
"Did you guys see Rick?" Tyreese asked as he pointed down at the parking lot.
"We did!" Carl answered enthusiastically.
"Daryl and John are right behind him," Michonne replied as she watched the redneck on his motorcycle, and the Vietnam Veteran in the Dodge Silverado, driving through the parking lot.
"Let's not trade war stories when they all get up here," Karen said as she looked over the deserted highway, "I don't want another herd or another group of backstabbers to get the drop on us."
"Excuse me?" Nate asked with an offended tone.
"No, there's no excuse for you assholes!" Karen spat. "Rick was going to bring all of you to the prison but you drew your guns on us!"
"Listen, we were told—"
"And that shogun you called a boss not only tried to cut Rick's head off, he kidnapped Rick's son!"
"Hey! Nate, Alonso, and me had nothing to do with that!" Julia shouted angrily as she pointed at Karen.
"Damn right!" Nate added. "And do you remember that story your boy Juan spilled about "the Governor" before all that shit went down? Well, it was the same story he told Harold! You guys lived with him in that town called Woodbury. We're you ever going to tell us that you had a lunatic for a boss, too?"
Karen's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She thought back to when she was a member of the Governor's army.
•••
When Michonne had snuck back into Woodbury with the prison group, she stabbed out the Governor's right eye, and they had killed few members of the security team, and then they all left with the security team's leader, Merle Dixon. The fear in Woodbury was thick as a fog, but Andrea (who was a former member of the prison group) arranged a parley between the Governor and the prison group's leader, Rick Grimes. When the Governor returned, he said a deal for peace had been made: Michonne. The next day Governor left with the security team and promised when he returned there'd be peace and Michonne would stand trial for the deaths she caused.
The Governor returned a couple of hours later, but without Michonne and without most of the security team. He said the deal had been an ambush, and most of the security team was killed.
After that, the fear in Woodbury turned into anger. The next morning the Governor led his army in an attack on the prison.
"Remember they killed eight men back there! Five here last time!" The Governor shouted.
"They're no different from the biters. And they're not going to stop until they kill us all! Taken everything we worked so hard for! We're going to end this, once and for all!"
They met no resistance and entered Cell Block C, but the prison group was inside, hiding. They used flash bang grenades, the prison alarms, and the biters within the Cell Block C itself, to frighten the Governor's soldiers; many of whom dropped their weapons and ran outside onto the courtyard.
"Get the hell out of here!" a voice ordered from somewhere.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
Bullets seemed to fly in all directions and chewed up the pavement beneath the army's feet; any chance the Governor had of rallying them was lost and they ran down the hill, got into their vehicles, and sped off.
Several minutes later, the Governor and his lieutenants Martinez and Shumpert, sped up to them in his Dodge Ram 1500, his horn blaring.
"Pull over! Hey! Pull this truck over!" The Governor ordered as he leaned out the passenger window.
Shumpert sped ahead and used the truck to block the road, bringing the caravan to a halt.
"What the hell are you doing?" The Governor shouted as he marched towards the caravan with his Steyr AUG A1 assault rifle in his hand, "We need to dig in!"
"It's not worth it!" Paul protested.
"That was a slaughter!" Karen retorted.
The Governor, his lieutenant Martinez, and the new guy Allen (Shumpert never was much of a talker) argued with the soldiers, all of whom had reached their limits with the Governor's orders.
"We are not soldiers," Karen said. "Want us to kill biters? Of course! This is crazy. We're going home!"
The Governor raised his assault rifle and took aim on his own army.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
Bullets tore into Paul and the others up front and they fell dead onto the side of the road. Karen was amongst the survivors who screamed in horror and ran into the field in a desperate attempt to escape.
BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAKKA!
The Governor continued firing into his fleeing army. Several bullets struck the man running behind Karen and as he fell forward, he knocked her to the ground and fell on top of her.
The echo of the gunfire drifted over the field and Karen lay still with the dead man's body on top of her.
BLAM!
The gunshot wasn't as loud as the earlier ones. Maybe he's switched to his pistol, Karen thought. That means…Oh, God…
A minute later Karen heard footsteps walking through the tall grass, followed by another gunshot.
BLAM!
Karen's fear was true: the Governor was walking through the field and killing the wounded. She shut her eyes, held her breath, and remained still.
BLAM!
A third gunshot and this time Karen realized just how close the Governor was to her.
BLAM!
A fourth gun shot, this time to Karen's right. Oh, God, please help me, she thought worriedly.
The Governor's footsteps started again, but he was walking away from Karen. A minute later she heard an engine start up and the sound of a vehicle speeding away. Karen opened her eyes and took quick breaths, but despite the silence, she decided to remain still in case the Governor returned. Then a low growl brushed past her left ear.
The dead man on her back was starting to turn.
Karen screamed in horror as she leapt to her feet, and the dead man fell off her. She ran back to the army transport truck and caught a glimpse of another corpse starting to turn. Karen climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door, but was horrified to find the keys weren't in the ignition (the driver had probably removed them out of habit). The two corpses were now on their feet and staggering towards the army transport truck. Karen screamed again, locked the doors and hid below in the footwell. The sounds of more corpses turning into walkers drifted into Karen's ears, so she covered her ears with her hands tightly.
Please help me, God. Please help me, Karen thought as she cried.
Minutes later, Michonne, Rick Grimes, and Merle's younger brother Daryl drove up, put the walkers down, and rescued Karen; then they told her what she already knew: the Governor was a liar, a manipulator, a murderer, and a lunatic.
•••
Karen snapped out of that vivid memory and looked at Nate and Julia, both of whom were glaring at her.
"That's bullshit!" Karen shouted. "Rick Grimes saved my life! If Rick were like the Governor, he'd have killed me the second he saw me, and Michonne and Daryl wouldn't have followed him this long if he were like that!"
"Juan's story convinced me, lady," Nate retorted. "One man, in charge of a group, in charge of everything; pretty soon that power goes to his head. I've seen it happen."
"My dad is a good man!" Carl shouted as he pointed a finger at Amare.
Nate snorted as he shook his head. "Every kid thinks their dad's a hero," he said.
"My dad isn't a hero," Carl said. "A hero is somebody who wins a war or builds a country. My dad is a leader! He didn't ask to lead our group, it's just what happened and my dad is why our group has lived for so long!"
The expression on Nate's face went from contempt to surprise.
"If you don't believe in my dad, then we don't want you with us!" Carl shouted. "Your boss Miyaguchi, the guy who spent a year hiding supplies behind your backs and murdering your friends for it, is dead. You're free to do what you want."
Nate found that he couldn't look Carl in the eyes so he lowered his head.
Michonne put her left hand on Carl's shoulder and glared at Nate. "Are you going to leave or are you going to stay?" she asked.
"I'll stay," Nate answered meekly.
"Then shut up," Michonne ordered.
At that moment Rick drove the Dodge Grand Caravan up the exit ramp and past the survivors. Rick had just put the minivan in park when Juan drew the Beretta M9 pistol out of its holster, flipped the safety to the "off" position, and aimed it at him.
Rick glared at Juan, and said nothing.
"Drop your gun and get out," Juan ordered.
Alonso, sitting in the back seat, leaned forward. "Dios mío, what are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm doing what I have to do to save everybody," Juan answered.
Rick drew his service revolver slowly and dropped it into the foot well.
"Get out of the car," Juan ordered.
Rick opened the driver's side door and climbed out of the minivan.
Juan looked over his shoulder at Alonso, sitting in the back seat. "You too," he ordered.
Alonso nodded and slid open the rear passenger door and climbed out quickly. Juan climbed over the center console, stepped over Rick's gun, and climbed out of the minivan.
Neither Rick, or Juan or Alonso had looked in the back of the minivan at Sam, lying across the rear folding seats, and saw that he was dead.