Chapter 22: Bloodlust


LPOV


~14 years ago~

Me and Kat went out for a swim. She had been taking lessons with her class and we were allowed to see them take the huge step of swimming without their floaties. When I got there, I sat there and talked to the other mothers. Kat was in her swim suit, waving to me and smiling.

Next thing I knew, Kat was saying she didn't want to. Pleading, crying and not wanting to go in. The instructor didn't listen and took off her float and pushed her into the pool. Getting to my feet, I felt my heart sank and saw Kat sink a little. Flopping around, she tried to grab something but instead he head kept going under water.

Panick struck me and I quickly jumped into the water. Grabbing Kat and pulling her to the surface. She wasn't breathing. She was out. I panicked. Called for her. I saw the instructor go to help me but I pushed her away. "Don't touch my daughter ever again," I growled at her.

Breathing into Kat's mouth, I held her nose closed, pumped her chest and kept doing it. Sooner or later Kat began to cough up the water, coming back to life and I clutched her to me. Crying and holding her, relieved that she was alive. Mumbling her name in repeat. I didn't take her to that place ever again...


Present day...RPOV

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl growled as he got closer to the people behind us, looking back, I noticed they were prisoners. 5 of them. One of them was wearing a wife beater, his suit no longer fully on like the other men wore theirs.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them asked Daryl back, trying to sound threatening. Daryl kept his crossbow aimed at them and especially at the one who was threatening them. I looked back down at Hershel and tried to stop the bleeding. It wasn't stopping. Not for anything we did.

"He's bleeding out. We gotta go back. Come around here. Put pressure on the knee. Hard, hard! Push, push," I ordered and Glenn walked away from us. Heading towards the prisoners and wandered into where the five had locked themselves in.

"Why don't you come on out of there? Slow and steady," Daryl growled as he instructed them. They slowly came out and looked to us. Maggie's hands slid on top of mine to do as I had said. Her face tear stained and her body shaking slightly from fear.

"What happened to him?" one of the prisoners asked as they looked towards us, their gaze stopping on Hershel and his now chopped off leg. My hands fumbled as I tried to find anything to stop the bleeding.

"He got bit," Daryl answered them truthfully which made my heart pound at the thought of Hershel. What if I didn't save him in time? What if...what if he dies and turns from blood loss? What's going to happen? Fuck! We need supplies!

"Bit?" the same prisoner asked, his hair long and he was the same one wearing a wife beater. He seemed to be the one leading this small group of prisoners and raised a gun towards Hershel. Where did a prisoner get a gun in a cell block?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy now. Nobody needs to get hurt," Daryl growled as I saw T-Dog from the corner of my eye raise a gun at them too. The threat that circled around us was just putting more pressure on all our shoulders.

"I need you to hold this. As hard as you can," I told Maggie as she came closer and pressed down where I told her. Shit. We have walkers banging at the door, Hershel passed out on the ground and a group of prisoners alive and possibly a danger to us all.

"Yes," Maggie mumbled fear in her eyes as well as sadness. She's worried about her dad. She has every right to be. Much like how I imagined my daughter would have been when I got shot. Yet...she was always the strongest of our family...God I missed her.

"You have medical supplies?" Glenn asked as he search the hiding place they were once inside of. Daryl glaring at the men and T-Dog keeping his eyes on the prisoners and his aim on them. My jaw tensing at the constant threat. I just wish we could have a break. One simple break.

"Wow. Where do you think you're going?" one of the prisoners questioned as he looked to Glenn, Glenn ignored this and searched for anything that could help us with what was going on with Hershel. The bleeding needs to stop. We need to get something so it doesn't get infected. Shit!

"Who the hell are you people, anyway?" a prisoner asked. Their voice curious and I just kept my head down on Hershel. Worried for his life and if I had gotten to the bite in time. It all happened so fast...fuck. If only he stayed by our side.

"Don't look like no rescue team," one of the prisoners said as the other kept his gun raised. There are no rescue teams. Are they fucking stupid? Anyway, even if there were any rescue teams...they wouldn't be bothered about prisoners. They'd rescue civilians first. Not douchebag prisoners.

"If a rescue team is what you're waiting for, don't," I growled to them. Fed up with hearing their voices and the way they kept asking us shit. "Come on, we gotta go! Now! Come on! I need a hand here. One, two, three, go!" I said as we lifted Hershel onto a rolling table Glenn had found.

"T, the door!" I shouted and T-Dog did as I said. Killing a few walkers so that we could escape quickly. "Daryl. Daryl! Let's go. This way," I ordered as Daryl crept away from them and we ran down halls. Searching for the way back to the others.

During the way towards the others, the prisoners followed. Daryl killed off walkers quickly and quietly. "He's losing too much blood," Maggie declared as her and Glenn helped me push Hershel around corridors and towards the others.

"Open the door! It's Hershel! Carl! Come on," I shouted to Carl who opened the door for us and we rushed Hershel through and towards a cell we could put him in. Hershel still hadn't woken from the loss of blood and it was beginning to worry me.

"Daddy!" Beth cried as she saw her father laid out on the metal table, tears in her eyes and following after us as we rolled him in. Fuck. I hope this works. It has to work. We can't lose Hershel. We need him. Not just for the baby but...because he's a good friend.

"Go, go, go, go, go. In there. Turn it. Turn it. Turn around. This way. Get him on the bed. He got bit," I ordered around as we rolled Hershel into a jail cell and moved him so that we could lay Hershel on the bed and lift him perfectly to be on the bed.

"Did you cut it off?" Beth asked me as I looked down at the still unconscious Hershel. He's not opening his eyes. He's not said or done anything other than bleed out and fuck...what are we going to do now?!

"Yeah," I answered as we all gathered around Hershel, examined him quickly and all of us looked for a part of Hershel to grab and to lift him off the bed. I just hope chopping his leg off was the right choice. I hope he survives this.

"Maybe you got it in time," Lori said trying to reassure me that it was all going to be all right. I just hope she's right. I hope I got to him in time. Fuck...this has to work. It needs to.

"Ready? Okay. One, two, three. One, two, three," I ordered as we all grabbed onto Hershel and hauled his body onto the bed, laying him down gently and stepping away from him so that Carol could have some space to do her work.

"Oh, God. Oh! Oh, I need bandages," Carol moaned out as she pulled off the towels we had found in the storage of the prisoners. Showing us what was left of his now bloody leg. My heart sinking at the thought of losing Hershel too.

"We used everything we had," Glenn called out, all of us panicked and worried as to what was to happen. Please...God...let Hershel survive this. He needs to. He has to. For the baby and for the rest of us.

"Well, get more! Anything," Carol demanded as she tried to find things for Hershel. To stop the bleeding and finding no luck. Lori sat beside Carol and looked at Carl.

"Carl, go get the towels from the back, right next to my bed," Lori demanded of Carl and he ran off to find the towels she had spoke of. I just hope we can save Hershel in enough time. God...he has to live.

"Is he gonna die?" Beth cried out. Maggie was frozen in place, Glenn was worried and Carol was trying everything in her power to save Hershel and to keep him from bleeding out. Some of the others tried to get out and some of us just couldn't move. In fear that Hershel was closer to death than life.

"No, no, no, no. He's gonna be okay. He's gonna be okay," Lori said as she held Beth in her arms. Caringly holding her as Beth cried out for her father. Lori would be like this with our daughter. Except...our daughter rarely cried. When she would cry, it was always be when she was alone because she never liked being seen as weak.

"You think you can stabilize him?" I asked Carol, worried for the state Hershel was in. Ever since I chopped off Hershel's leg, he hadn't moved or spoken. His breathing was getting heavy and his pulse was weakening.

"I need to keep his leg elevated. Get some pillows!" Carol demanded, this was when I squeezed past the others and went to the next cell, grabbing some pillows and bringing them to Carol.

"He's already bled through the sheets," Maggie cried, her hands clutching the bed and watching Carol try and help Hershel to be better. To stop the blood from spilling out and to make sure he didn't lose too much blood.

"We can burn the wound to clot the blood. I can start a fire," Glenn suggested as I looked around for more pillows and Carl came back with the towels his mom had asked for.

"No, the shock could kill him. It's not gonna stop the arteries from bleeding. We need to just keep it dressed and let it heal on its own. Oh, God," Carol explained, trying to make sure Glenn didn't do what he wanted to do.


DPOV

Preparing for the prisoners to come in, I placed my foot on one of the table stools and aimed my crossbow at the door. Dropping the keys to one side, I waited patiently for the prisoners to come towards us. The others were dealing with Hershel and his leg. "That's far enough," I growled when they all started to come in.

"Cell block C. Cell 4...that's mine, gringo. Let me in," the one in the wife beater growled at me. His black hair was long, his dark hair was greasy and reaching his shoulders. His dark eyes were filled with something that made my stomach churn. Something's not right about him.

"Today's your lucky days, fellas. You've been pardoned by the State of Georgia. You're free to go," I growled at them, keeping my stance threatening and my eyes glaring at them. Hoping that they would feel the fright from my presentation. No shower, blood, sweat and dirt covering my body. My glare intimidating and my bow should do the trick too.

"What you got going on in there?" the same one who held the pistol and wore the woman beater asked. His eyes glancing behind me where the others escaped in order to help Hershel. These guys could be murderers, thieves and...rapists. I don't like them.

"It ain't none of your concern," I growled thinking of the time so long ago on the farm. My arms tensing as did my entire body. I had gain more muscles, a tan and more trust towards the people I was with. Thinking of the girl who the Grimes family had lost...how she had almost been raped.

"Don't be telling me what's my concern," the guy with the gun and wife beater growled back at me. I get the feeling this guy is a killer. A murderer. Something in his eyes seems a little off to me. Like he could kill people he cared about in cold blood and not bat an eyelash after he killed them.

"Chill, man. Dude's leg is messed up. Besides, we're free now. Why are we still in here?" one of the other prisoners said. He was bigger, taller and fatter. He talked like he was a nice guy but...who knew what this guy was in for. Probably a thief.

"The man's got a point," I agreed. They should just leave. Get eaten on the road instead of being locked away in a closet. They should try their luck on the road. Seems like they've eaten well enough through this time...seems like they haven't grown hungry like we have.

"Yeah, and I gotta check on my old lady," another prisoner said. He was more of a built structure. Muscular. He was slightly intimidating but he didn't seem all as he appeared. I don't trust these guys...at all.

"A group of civilians breaking in to a prison you got no business being in...got me thinking there ain't no place for us to go," the one with the gun and wife beater said. Smart. For a fucking jail bird. Time to let you fly out of your nest.

"Why don't you go find out?" I growled, getting angry with these men. My crossbow never lowering and my eyes glued to everyone of them. No way am I letting them come anywhere near close to the people past that gate. No way near the group.

"Maybe we'll just be going now," the one with the weird southern accent said, his arms crossed and he looked like he didn't want to be here. Why does he seem like such a pussy? We're in this fucking shit hole of a new world. Acting so afraid is going to get you killed...but...still...the bravest of people can fall.

"Hey, we ain't leaving," the guy in a wife beater shouted to the one who was too afraid. Seems to me this guy is acting like a dog right now. All bark...no bite. Fucking prick. He better not do anything stupid or he'll get an arrow between the eyes.

"You aren't coming in either," T-Dog backed me up as he rounded a courner, pulling up his gun and staring at the guy in the wife beater. The guy quickly pulled up his gun and aimed at the both of us, looking at me and T-Dog, his eyes dark and his finger curling slightly on the trigger.

"Hey, this is my house, my rules. I go where I damn well please," the guy shouted as he looked at us. This got me really riled up. Me and wife beater shouting at each other about what was going to happen and that this place was no longer his. That if he took one more step...he would get it.


RPOV

"What was that?" Beth asked startled, hearing the group arguing with each other in the other room. Daryl and one of the prisoners arguing to each other back and fourth. Something had to happen and I needed to step up as their leader and take control of this situation.

"Prisoners, survivors," I told them which made them all look to me panicked. "It's all right. Everybody stay put," I tell them, reassuring to them that we were keeping it under control. "Do not leave his side. If he dies, you need to be there for that. You think you can do this? Maggie will be there," I asked Glenn as I stopped him to look at him.

"I got it," Glenn agreed as though he could tell this was something that had to be done. Worried about the worst possible outcome but needing to get ready for whatever could happen. Not everything can turn out the way we want it to...

"I can bring T in-" I suggest, not wanting him to feel too pressured and knowing that this was a hard time for him. Maggie must be feeling slightly distroyed. Seeing her father bitten like that and then having his leg chopped off so...bloody and quickly.

"I got it," Glenn agreed and gave me a firm nod. Indicating that he knew exactly what he had to do. I just hope Hershel survives and doesn't turn. That would be devestating for all of us. He needs to live. For the baby and his daughters.

"Good," I said and walked out, Carl closed the door behind me and I could hear the arguing as clear as day. Arguing? Why? We could just throw them out or give them their options if they wish to co-operate.

"There ain't nothing for you here. Why don't you go back to your own sandbox?" Daryl growled to the prisoners, clearly pissed off and making me pull out my machete. Running to them and calling for their attention. All of them looked to me and the tension in the room was thick. Like a fog.

"How many of you are in there?" the guy with the gun and wife beater asked us as he had his gun aimed up at me. His eyes glaring at me as I gripped tighter onto my machete. The thought of my daughter came rushing into my mind.

"Too many for you to handle," I informed him. Knowing that my daughter would be proud that I would try and be threatening but secretive towards those we cared about. Need to keep them all safe. Especially those who wouldn't know how to handle this situation like I'm doing currently.

"You guys rob a bank or something? Why don't you take him to a hospital?" the guy asked us who acted more like their leader than another prisoner looking for answers. Like he would know anything about leading. Or about this mess outside of these prison fences...

"How long have you been locked in that cafeteria?" I asked them a little stunned by the question. Do they really not know what's going on out there? What the world has come to? Are they really that clueless?

"Going on like 10 months," the guy with the gun answered, looking at me as though it was no big deal. 10 months...and they've had food? They must of had their own secret stash in that cafeteria. Enough to last 10 months? Must have more somewhere.

"A riot broke out. Never seen anything like it," the taller, more rounded man of the group said. Looking at us as though there was something off. He must be talking about he walkers. I can sense it. Would make sense to think of it as some sort of riot. One that went out of control.

"Attica on speed, man," one of the more silent ones said. His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes glued to the floor or glancing up shyly at us. He seemed scared and confused. The way he spoke was nervous. The way he spoke of drugs made him look like he wanted some...drug user.

"Ever heard about dudes going cannibal, dying, coming back to life? Crazy," the smallest man said out of the group. He looked like the type that would annoy you till you had your last breath. They don't know what's going on with the world. They believe this plague only happened here at their prison...

"One guard looked out for us, locked us up in the cafeteria. Told us sit tight, threw me this piece, said he'd be right back," the guy in the wife beater and holding the gun said as he waved it around a little. Trying to make his point.

"Yeah, and that was 292 days ago," one of the other prisoners said, a more built and muscular prisoner who seemed like a nice person if we were back in the normal world and if he wasn't a criminal. That long huh?

"94 according to my calcula-" the southern accented man said. His arms and posture showed me he was scared. Frightened out of his wits and by that I could sense the others growing angry with the man's attitude. For a prisoner you'd think they'd be tougher of nature and attitude.

"Shut up!" the one with the wife beater and gun raised at T-Dog said as he growled at the southern one. The southern prisoner looked away scared and slightly frightened from the way the guy scolded him like that. That was uncalled for.

"We were thinking that the army or the national guard should be showing up any day now," the taller, more reasonable looking one said as he looked to me. He seems...hopefull...a lot like my daughter but...he isn't my daughter. No one is her. She's...gone. Dead.

"There is no army," I growled, trying to make them see the facts. They were misinformed and they acted as though they didn't want to hear me. Why are they so clueless? Are they deaf or something? Logic really doesn't show up in prisoners.

"What do you mean?" the one with the gun asked me as he looked to me. His eyes darker than they were meant to be. They were brown, his black greasy hair splayed out around his head and he looked to me confused. His eyes focused on me and only me.

"There's no government, no hospitals, no police. It's all gone," I tell them. Sad that the world had come to this but it is what it is. Life needs to keep going. Certainly mine for Carl, Lori, the group and the baby.

"For real?" the southern one asked, his mustache twitching a little as he looked at me. A look of confusion and surprise. Reminding me of the time I had lost my family and woke to this new world. It was just...stunning. To wake up to a new world and not be beside my family. To discover this was what became of our lives.

"I'm serious," I answered, keeping my voice leveled so that I wasn't sounding weak or too confident. A leader should always seem level headed and calm in spirit but when intimidated or feeling threatened, he should be strong and sometimes seen to be defended.

"What about my moms?" one prisoner said. "My kids?" the other prisoner spoke. "And my old lady?" another asked. All these people were worried about who they cared most for in the old world. Unsure of where they are and if they had even survived.

"Yo, you got a cell phone or something that we can call our families?" the tallest, more reasonable looking man said as he stepped closer to Daryl which made him wary. His crossbow up and his finger itching to shoot if he needed to. My eyes glued on the two and the whole group.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Daryl asked stunned that they didn't understand what we were trying to explain to them. Are they so clueless and unsure of what the world has come to? The world isn't what it used to be anymore.

"No phones, no computers. As far as we can see, at least half the population has been wiped out. Probably more," I explained to them and they looked at me stunned. Yep. You better believe what I just said. That's the whole hearted truth.

"Ain't no way," the one that was holding the gun, aimed at T-Dog slowly lowered it and looked to me. Everyone was silent as they took in the information. The guy looked at me like I was insane, that I was saying this just to scare them and that it wasn't true.

"See for yourself," I tell them and this was when all of them looked to me questioningly, we walked along the steps to go outside and the prisoners walked ahead of us. Walking past all the bodies and watching the fences, some seemed oblivious of the bodies and some did take note of them.

"Damn, the sun feels good," the taller, more reasonable looking guy said as he stretched and enjoyed the feeling of the sun. Is he kidding me?! This isn't meant to be joyful. This isn't at all a happy moment. There is death and distruction out there and possibly in here now too...

"Good lord. They're all dead," the southern one said, his eyes glued to the bodies as he crossed his arms over his chest tightly, he seemed frightened and looked ill from this state of inmates.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to see these fences," the one in the wife beater said as he looked out into the distance, seeing the fences and the walkers that roamed outside them. They act like they don't care about the walkers that surround us at every moment.

"You never said-...how the hell did you get in here in the first place?" the smaller one of the five men said as he looked at me. His eyes questioning and his stance was trying to be intimidating but it wasn't working.

"Cut a hole in that fence over there by that guard tower," Daryl answered for me. His bow was down, all of us stepping out onto the cort and the bodies still weren't cleaned up. We need to clean up. Before they create a smell.

"That easy, huh?" the smaller one asked as he looked to Daryl. Daryl had kept a straight face and wasn't nerved by any of them. He's strong, quick and loyal. I trust him. With my life and with the life of my family. If only he were there to save my daughter. I knew he would of...

"Where there's a will there's a way," Daryl tried to sound hopeful. Seems to me he took that from my daughter. She was always a hopeful one she was. Always thinking of the good things to come. Never reflecting on the bad unless she felt guilty for it. Like with Sophia...that ate away at her but she sprung back up.

"Easy for you to say," the smaller one said as I saw one of the men poke at one of the walkers that laid on the ground. So they finally notice them. Congrats. Seems to me we have lots of bodies and they only just notice that they were walkers and on the ground. Dead.

"So what is this, like a disease?" the taller, bigger one asked, his eyes glancing around at the bodies and then looked up at us. He seemes...worried and confused of this whole new concept and the people that they once used to be.

"Yeah, and we're all infected," I answered, feeling my heart being squised at the knowledge, remembering Shane and my daughter. Both of them walkers...both of them gone and I will never see them again...only in my nightmares.

"What do you mean infected? Like AIDS or something?" the southern one asked, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes squinting from the light of the sun. Something's wrong about this man. I don't like the feeling I get from him.

"If I was to kill you, shoot an arrow in your chest, you'd come back as one of these things. It's gonna happen to all of us," Daryl tried to explain, his crossbow was no longer raised and aimed at any of the men. Pointing to the walkers on the ground and then each of us.

"Ain't no way this Robinhood casts responsible for killing all these freaks," the one in the wife beater said as he looked at us, pointing at us all and acting as though we were just a bunch of...dare I say it...pussies.

"Must be 50 bodies out here," the smaller one stated as I looked down. They're questioning us. Testing our strengths and weaknesses. Our skills. They're testing us and I can feel it. They want to know if we're easy to take down.

"Where'd you come from?" the one with the gun and white wife beater asked me, his eyes studying me and looking me up and down like Daryl used to when he didn't trust us as much as he does now. What the fuck's his problem?

"Atlanta," I answered, my voice strong and slighly questioning. What is he wanting to know from me? Why do I get the feeling this question is leading to something? It seems to me this question is leading to more questions than answers.

"Where are you headed?" he asked me after my response. I knew it. He wants to kick us out of here and leave us to ourselves. Not a way in hell am I going to let this prick threaten me in this way.

"For now, nowhere," I growled, keeping my voice calm and stern. Trying to show him I meant business. No way is he going to force us out of here! Not after all we've been through, not after all the people we lost and those days that we were never safe.

"I guess you can take that area down there near the water. Should be comfortable," the prisoner tried to tell me, as though he was the one in charge and could say what was going to happen. He is wrong. Very wrong.

"We're using that field for crops," I explained, my tone slightly threatening. We aren't moving to wherever he thinks because he says so. This world is for those who are stronger and smarter. Not for prisoners because they think they can suddenly take charge.

"We'll help you move your gear out," he tried to continue, pointing to where he was suggesting we were to go. I am not letting them take back their prison because they think they can. We earned this. They were simply lucky.

"That won't be necessary. We took out these walkers. This prison is ours," I growled at him, trying to prove my point and not be stepped all over by him. This is ours. We worked hard to take over this shelter. We have more of a say than they ever could.

"Slow down, cowboy," the one in the wife beater told me, haulting me and making me look at him angered. He's trying to insult me...it's not working and he's not scaring me. I won't think two times about killing him. I'll do it.

"You snatched the locks off our doors," the smaller one said as he looked to me slightly angered. As though this was meant to make me sorry for them. As though that was going to keep them safe forever.

"We'll give you new locks, if that's how you want it," I say as I waved my machete around, trying to show them not to get too close and feeling like my daughter was still with me in some weird way as I moved my weapon around this way.

"This is our prison. We were here first," the one with the gun said as he looked at me angrily. I don't give a fuck. This place is ours and I say so. Just because he's got a gun and is a prisoner he thinks we'll listen to him? Not in a million years.

"Locked in a broom closet? We took it, set you free. It's ours. We spilled blood," I growled at him as I pointed to the ground, signaling for him to look at the dead bodies. We have the guts to kill these all. They were locked inside, clueless and scared. Hidden away like children.

"We're moving back into our cell block," the prisoner in the wife beater growled at me. As though he was threatening me and trying to intimidate us. You don't scare me boy. Fucker. We've been through to much to be kicked out by inmates.

"You'll have to get your own," I growled, standing my ground and baring my teeth a little. No fucking way am I letting a bunch of prisoners come close to my family, kick us out of the prison and tell me that I was to move away. To fuck off and let them take what we gained. What we earned!

"It is mine. I've still got personal artifacts in there. That's about as mine as it gets," the one with the gun said as he pulled out his gun, trying to be threatened. I wasn't afraid of them, knowing my own skills with my python and the fact that both T-Dog and Daryl had their weapons drawn on him in seconds, both stood beside me and watching the one in front of me.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Maybe let's try to make this work out so everybody wins," the southern one said as he tried to separate us and tried to reason with his inmate. Seems this guy is smater than he seems. Let's hope they don't double cross us the chance they get.

"I don't see that happening," the one in the wife beater growled at me, staring directly into my eyes and all of us were close together. Huddled in this tense air bubble that surrounded us together. He wants to scare me. To make me scurry away. It's not working.

"Neither do I," I growled agreeing with him on this. We aren't leaving. We aren't moving. And they certainly ain't taking what we killed for. Not for them. Not for anyone. This place is ours. They're free for all I care.

"I ain't going back in that cafeteria for one more minute," the one in the wife beater tried to point out. There are other ways around this. Like chosing another cell block, locking you in there and not allowing you to move. At all.

"There are other cell blocks," the southern one tried to reason, his eyes worried and his tone was slightly pleading. He doesn't want a fight. He doesn't want to argue over whose's what.

"You could leave. Try your luck out on the road," Daryl suggested, his aim was still locked on the guy, reassuring me that Daryl had my back and knew what to do if the guy tried anything on me or us.

"If these three pussies can do all this, the least we can do is take out another cell block," the one in the wife beater agreed, coming to terms with it all. He better not try anything...I have killed men before and I can do it again. Especially if it means protecting myself and my family.

"With what?" the bigger guy asked, his tone curious and his face slightly blank. He seems completely oblivious to the whole thing. Like it's just another silly task and it has no importance. At least the only one disagreeing is this asshole in front of me.

"Atlanta here will spot us some real weapons. Won't you, boss?" the one with the gun suggested. Looking to me as though he could boss me around. No one tells me what to do...but...given choices...I believe we could possibly settle a deal.

"How stocked is that cafeteria? It must have plenty of food. Five guys lasting almost a year?" I asked, curious as to how much food they could possibly spare for all of us. We all need food. It's something that needs to be found. They don't look hungry.

"It sure as hell don't look like anybody's been starving," Daryl said as he summeries the way they all looked. They haven't been sweating and starving like we have. 10 months? There must be food supply.

"There's only a little left," the main guy said as he looked between the three of us. I get the feeling he's lying about that. I can see it in his eyes. The way his lips trembled a little and showed me that he was in fact...lying.

"We'll take half. In exchange, we'll help clear out a cell block," I suggest. Trying to make a deal that would work well for us all. Win, win. Either of us win and non of us lose. If anyone loses...it won't be me and my group.

"Didn't you hear him? There's only a little left," the smaller one said trying to be threatening as he stepped up. I really don't like this boy's tone. He's lucky I don't bash his teeth in. Trying to threaten me like that. Trying to be smart mouthed.

"Bet you got more food than you got choices," I tell him as I sniffed and took a few steps closer, my eyes on the ground and his looking to me slightly frightened. "You pay, we'll play. We'll clear out a block for you, then you keep to it," I suggest, trying to be seen as firm and standing my ground.

"All right," the main one agreed, which made me look at him directly in the eye. This better not end well and if it does...I'll make sure we don't go down without a fight. These fuckers aren't getting out of my sight. Not for a minute.

"Well, let's be clear. If we see you out here anywhere near our people, if I so much as even catch a whiff of your scent, I will kill you," I snarled, getting close to the main leader and looking to each of them. My eyes hard as stone and jaw clenched.

"Deal," the main one said as he looked to me. His eyes watching me carefully as though he was curious as to what he could possibly plot against me. Whatever he's thinking won't work. Hadn't worked with Shane...won't work with him.


LPOV

"It has to stop eventually, right?" Carol asked as we tried to wrap up Hershel's leg and keep it tended to. Blood covered our hands and were drying up around them. It felt weird to move my fingers and to not be able to move the hairs from my face properly.

"It slowed down quite a bit already," I tell her, getting up to grab something from the box of medical supplies we had. Sitting back down and being careful with the baby in my stomach. It will be soon now when this little person will be out of me...or a little walker...

"If we can get him through this-" Carol went to say which made me look at her surprised. Why the sudden doubt? The sudden loss of hope? This woman thinks we're going to lose Hershel so easily? Crazy talk.

"When we get him through this," I corrected her. My daughter would want me to hold onto the hope that he survives. That we all survive and can get through this. That there will be a brighter a future. That brighter future will come with this baby and with Hershel surviving this.

"We'll need crutches," Carol went on to say, finishing it now that I corrected it. That's true. Poor Hershel won't be able to walk on his two feet anymore. He'll need the support from crutches...unless he'd prefer to be in a wheelchair and sadly...there are non of those here as far as I can tell.

"Right now we could use some antibiotics and painkillers, some sterile gauze," I said, trying to remind her to live in the present. Not the past or the future. Even if from time to time they come into our minds, we need to rember that we had to live for the moment and keep surviving as best as we can.

"There's got to be an infirmary here," Carol said hopeful. That's the spirit. We need to keep positive. Even in our darkest times and toughest struggles. Working together and being hopeful will get us through this.

"If there is, we'll find it," I agreed, keeping hopeful too. My daughter would be proud of us. She would probably be going out there by herself to get the stuff I need...but then again...she always did prefer to be by her father's side. Protecting him with threats like these prisoners.

"You've gotta be worried sick about delivering the baby," Carol spoke as though she knew what was going on in my mind. I may be worried but not exactly about my baby...Hershel could be dying and my husband is somewhere risking his life around prisoners.

"Look at me. Do I look worried?" I ask her and kept a small smile on my face. Her face lit up with a giggle. The others stood around watching us, Carl disappeared somewhere and I just looked to Carol who had a twinkle in her sea blue eyes.

"You look disgusting," she teased at me. The pair of us covered in blood, sweat and dirt from not having a shower in weeks. Easy for her to say. Sadly...we're all on the same boat when it comes to our appearances.

"So do you," I tell her giggling. The both of us being childish and forgetting the situation we were in, even if it was for a second. "We'll get through this," I said as I caressed Hershel's face, hopeful that he would survive and that we'd all be fine. He has to live. We have to all be fine.


RPOV

"Pantry's back here," Tomas said as he led us towards where they had been hiding. Looking at Hershel's leg, I felt the guilt and sadness...the worry all of it ran into my head and through my body again. He has to survive. He has to.

"You never tried to break out of here?" T-Dog asked. Looking around and checking for any exits. There were non but there were possible ones if the time asked for it. Who knows where they lead to...could be anywhere.

"Yeah, we tried to take the doors off...but if you make one peep in here, then those freaks'll be lined up outside the door growling, trying to get in. Windows got bars on there that he-man couldn't get through," the one we had found out was called Oscar explaind to us.

"Bigger than a 5x8," the southern one said. He always spoke so timidly and looked so scared. What is wrong with him? Why is he always so afraid. So cut off from all the others. It seems to me this one is the odd one out.

"You won't find me complaining. Doing 15. My left leg can barely fit on one of those bunks," the one we found out to be big tiny said as they looked to him and he explained about his size. Well...this...isn't weird. Is it?

"Yeah, they don't call him Big Tiny for nothing," Oscar said teasingly, unsure to laugh or to keep silent. I decided to keep stern and silent. Not wanting to seem friendly or to seem too cold.

"You done jerking each other off? Sick of waiting back here," Tomas asked us as he peeked over to look at us. He leaned against the door frame and looked at us like we were a bunch of assholes. I wouldn't mind slicing his tongue off.

"This what you call a little bit of food?" Daryl asked as he checked the food and squinted a little at it. There were piles. No. Stacks of food. Enough to feed an army and more. How did they keep it so...full?

"Goes fast," which caused Daryl to answer him with a small 'mm-hmm.' Daryl seemed unamused and slightly angered by the news of so much food. It will be enough to last us at least a few months. If we use it right and keep the food in check. I hope they don't expire any time soon.

"You can have a bag of corn, some tuna fish-" Tomas went to say, trying to take the lead again. To be a leader. This guy isn't convincing and he ain't getting away with giving us less than half. They showed it us...I could have simply killed them all without a blink of my eyes...but I didn't.

"We said half. That's the deal. What's in there?" I asked and stated. Standing my ground and searching inside a closed door. Incase it had anymore goods that they were keeping from us. Daryl kept looking at the food and the others just watched me.

"Don't open that," one of them said but it was too late. Opening it, there was a pile of shit and a huge puddle of piss on the ground. This is their own toilet. Coughing, I tried to keep the vile from rising from the horrid smell. My stomach flipping and my nose couldn't rid the smell no matter how many breaths I took. "He wanted to know," Tomas said as I coughed up and some of the others laughed.

"Can't wait for my own pot to piss in," the southern one we found out was Axel said as he looked to the ground. His arms crossed and he looked sad. He seems so off to be a prisoner. He must have been a drug addict and was using a lot of it judging by how he was...

"Food's here," T-Dog announced as we left Daryl to keep the others from coming in here, locking the keys behind us as we wandered towards the cells. Back to the others. Seeing Carl open up the door for us, food in our arms and heavy to carry.

"What you got?" Carl asked as his eyes were wide with wonder and delight from seeing the food. He seems as happy as we are to find the food. This is only half...imagine what he would be like if we had all?

"Canned beef, canned corn, canned cans. There's a lot more where this came from," T-Dog answered him as he led the way and dropped the food down by the stair case, heading back to retrieve more food with Daryl and bring it back.

"Any change?" I asked as I stopped by Glenn and Hershel still out. He has to be all right. He has to. There is no way we can let him die. He must be living. He's just...tired. From shock and blood loss. That's all.

"Bleeding is under control and no fever, but his breath is labored and his pulse is way down and he hasn't opened his eyes yet," Lori spoke, looking to me and clutching the bars. He's not doing too great then...

"Take my cuffs, put them on him. I'm not taking any chances," I tell Glenn, showing him my back pockets and feeling the weight lift from it and knowing that he had taken the cuffs, I kept hold of the food and waited a second longer.

"Yeah," he agreed as he took them and I turned my back again, heading towards a corner and placing them by the bottom of the steps. When I turned to look, I saw that it was only me and Lori outside of the cells and by the food.

"So what about those prisoners?" Lori asked as we stepped aside, by the stairs and looked to each other. I'm going to...try and keep myself level and calm. I don't want to argue with her. We've all been through a lot so far. We're all under pressure.

"We're gonna help them clear out their own cell block, and then they'll be there and we'll be here," I tell her, not wanting to argue but not wanting to give her too much information. As to not worry her, especially with the baby soon to come.

"Living beside each other," she stated more than questioned me. She always was smart. Guess that's where our daughter got it from. Sadly...she wasn't smart enough to survive the farm. I miss her so much.

"I'm not giving up this prison," I stated, not wanting to let us out there and back in danger. We're safer here than we ever were out there! We need this place. Not just for the baby...but for all of us.

"Do they have guns?" she asked me, looking up but then back down, as though she was too afraid to look me in the eyes. I have been mean to her these past few months but...I don't know how else to respond to her anymore. She left our daugher...she...made me kill my best friend and then rejected my affections towards her...

"I only saw one. Yeah, I don't know if it's gonna work," I say, rubbing at my nose and she sighed. Her hands slipping into her back pockets. They're trouble. I can feel it. Sense it and especially that Tomas guy. He's bad news.

"Well, what are your options?" she asked me trying to sound positive and supportive. Always trying to challenge me, to talk to me and see what is really under my skin. I don't know what to do when she puts me on the spot like this.

"Kill them," I say bluntly. Feeling like Shane and remembering the time we argued over Randall...how my daughter was so destroyed. Everything that happened on the farm...all of it flooding back to me.

"If that's what you think is best," she tells me which reminded me of the time we were in the tent. When we joked about being old people. Talked about how worried we were about our daughter and then...about the baby. About threates. About Shane.

"You s-...you say this now," I tell her laughing to myself a little. You practically told me to kill him. Saying he was a threat. That I would kill anyone who came between me and my family. He did. He was dangerous. She told me to kill him.

"Look, I know that I'm a shitty wife and I'm not winning any mother of the year awards, but I need you to know that not for one second do I think there is malice in your heart," she said which made me look down. Thinking of our daughter and everything that happened on the farm.

"You're not a killer, and I know that. I know that, so-...so do whatever you gotta do to keep this group safe. And do it with a clear conscience," she continued. Making me look to her and I knew she was right. I'm not like Shane. I think things through. I don't want to threaten everyone. Not when there could be good out there. Still...

"Why do I need this when I got this?" Tomas asked, raising his gun and examined the silent weapons we laid out in front of him. Oh how clueless...he just wants to shoot that thing...doesn't he? To show off and act tough. He's being stupid. Reckless if he shoots.

"You don't fire guns, not unless your back's up against a wall. Noise attracts them. It really riles them up," Daryl explained, looking to each and everyone of them. Making sure they had all listened and this was when I saw it a good time to speak.

"We'll go in two by two. Daryl will run point with T. I'll bring up the rear with you," I say pointing to Andrew. "Stay tight, hold formation no matter how close the walkers get anyone breaks ranks, we could all go down. Anyone runs off, they could get mistaken for a walker, end up with an axe to the head," I explained to them, instructing them of what could happen.

"And that's where you aim. These things only go down with a head shot," Daryl explained, making sure they were all well informed for what was to come. They need to know so that they don't have to get lost or feel scared. So they know where they die instantly.

"Ain't gotta tell us how to take out a man," Tomas growled. I knew it. He looks like the type to be a murderer. Acts like one, looks at me like one and why else would a cop give him the gun? As he said...'knew how to kill a man'.

"They ain't men. They're something else," T-Dog said to them, his mind seemed distant but his eyes were on the others. They certainly aren't men...or women. They are people who once had lives and now want to take ours. Flesh, blood and our lives.

"Just remember to go for the brain," I remind them as they all picked their weapons and we headed into the prison. Preparing for what was to come. Each step felt heavy and my machete kept feeling lighter. She's with me. I feel it.

"Man, it's too damn dark in here," Oscar growled as we got closer to the hall. Keeping in formation and slowly creeping towards our destination. Our eyes glued forward and big tiny tried to hold the flashlight correctly.

"Gotta hold it up high out in front of you. You're gonna hear them before you see them," Daryl told them as he led the group, keeping his walk slow and his eyes forward. He would glance over his shoulder but would always stay alert.

"It's coming!" Axel alerted us and possibly every possible walker roaming around. What an idiot! Did he not hear Daryl saying that we'll hear it?! That they get riled up by noise! No. Instead he fucking calls the dinner bell for them all!

"Shh!" I growled, trying to silence him as we got closer and saw the walkers come out from around their corners. Their feet shuffling as they stumbled closer to us and we were alerted before by these sounds but also from Axel hearing these sounds.

What happened next surprised me, T-Dog and Daryl. The prisoners ran to them and worked as teams to...fight them. Except...they were hitting everywhere but the brain. Only the stomach and heart and other places. "You wanna taste me?" Axel asked one as another held a walker back, stabbing at it's stomach while others kicked and whacked another on the ground. This is fucking chaos...


CPOV

"I thought you were organizing the food," Glenn asked me as he saw me walk down with the bag of medicine and other medical supplies. Going a different route, I found some supplies and killed a few walkers to get to it and back.

"Even better. Check it out," I told them as I placed the bag down on the floor, the zip wasn't completely closed and it showed them the supplies they needed in order to fix Hershel up. In all honesty, I felt proud of myself and I knew my sister would be too.

"Where did you get this?" Carol gasped out as she looked at the bag and pulled out all the things from it. Her eyes sparkling in pure delight from me finding the stuff she needed in order to save Hershel. I'm glad someone's pleased with my work.

"From the infirmary. Wasn't much left, but I cleared it out," I said, pointing out my efforts in trying to find this. There wasn't much but it was enough to possibly save Hershel's life. We all want Hershel to pull through from this.

"You went by yourself?" mom asked me her eyes wide as were Maggies when they looked up at me. The medical supplies in their hands but their faces shocked and stunned by this new fact. Why do they look at me like I've sinned or something?

"Yeah," I answered quickly. Maggie's eyes still on me and mom looked away pained. I hope she's thinking about the time she left my sister to die. If she helped her...my sister may still be alive. Instead mom abandoned her.

"Are you crazy?" mom asked me questioningly. Her voice slightly angry and incredulous at the thought that I could have done all this and survived. I'm not a child anymore. I'm not that silly little boy everyone had to look after from back at the farm. My sister would want me to toughen up and not be afraid of walkers.

"No big deal. I killed two walkers," I stated wanting mom to get off my case. I can handle myself. I don't need mom or dad. I can take care of myself and I don't need anyone's help. Not even...my sisters.

"You-...all right, do you see this? This was with the whole group," mom pointed out. Like that made a difference. We all die eventually. Doesn't matter if we like it or not. It's going to happen either way. So mom needs to get over it and let me keep surviving.

"We needed supplies, so I got them," I tried to reason, pleading my case and trying to get some appreciation instead of being told off by mom. Fed up with her watching me like a hawk. I'm not some child anymore. They can't hide me from walkers. Not anymore.

"I appreciate that, but-" mom went to argue back at me, her voice rising and I realized I had enough already. She needs to stop treating me like I can't defend myself. Like I can't do anything for myself. I'm not a child!

"Then get off my back. I'm not Kat!" I screamed back at her, fed up with us always never mentioning her anymore. We never spoke her name or spoke of Kat at all. It almost sounded foreign coming from my lips. It had been so long since we mentioned her in any conversation.

"Carl! She's your mother. You can't talk to her like that, especially not about your sister like that," Beth scolded me as mom gasped and looked away pained. Maybe that was out of line but...she needs to remember that my sister had a name. Not always to be refering to her as 'my sister' or their 'daughter' because it pains them too much to think of her or say her name!

"Listen, I think it's great that you wanna help-" mom went to say but I had enough. I rushed out and went to my cell. Sitting in my room, I curled up in a ball and cried silently. Thinking of my sister and what she would do in this situation. What she would be telling me. How she would comfort me the only way she knew how. I miss her so much...


RPOV

"It's gotta be the brain. Not the stomach, not the heart. The brain," Daryl told them as we all gathered around, watching a walker stumble into our line of view slowly. The group's eyes staring at the walker and Daryl put it down with his crossbow.

"I hear you. The brain," the southern one said as they all were on edge. Their weapons at the ready and my eyes watching each of them. Wondering if they were just saying that so they could end up doing the same as last time.

"Like that?" one of them asked as they wandered over and killed a walker by destroying their brain. That's better. Seems like these prisoners were slow in figuring it out the first time. Just need to repeat things two times to them.

"Uh-huh. Stay in tight formation. No more prison riot crap," I agreed, growling at them and their stupid mistake from last time. Stupid fuckers. Doing prison shit here to try and kill a bunch of walkers. Hitting everywhere but at the brain. Idiots.

"Ah!" we heard a scream after we killed as many walkers as we could. Hearing the scream, we all ran towards the sound and found big tiny was scratched. Bleeding above his arm and the blood poured out from his shoulder blade.

"I'm telling you, I don't feel anything. It's just a scratch," big tiny tried to convince us. It wasn't working and the rest of us didn't know how to handle the situation. We gave Jim a choice. This is different. This guy thinks he'll survive this. No one does.

"I'm sorry, man," I said appologetically. He was more than dead now. Bites and scratches increased the disease. The soon kill you too from the influence which makes you come back to life.

"I can keep fighting!" big tiny tried to convince us, possibly afraid of what could happen and trying to figure out ways on how to do this. We could shoot him...or we could simply allow him to turn to end up killing him? Either is dangerous seeing as walkers would hear the shot and that we would put ourselves in danger of walkers.

"You cut that old guy's leg off to save his life," Andrew asked a little crazed. Angry almost. They just don't get it do they? The leg was easy to cut. Not as much blood and not such a death like cutting that would be. It would kill him.

"Look at where the bite is," I said, pointing to the scratch. It was on his back, clear and it simply couldn't be removed without the guy dying. No matter how we would try to save him, he would turn and come to kill us all.

"Guys, I'm fine! Just-...I'm fine. Look at me. I'm not changing into one of those things," big tiny said, trying to defend himself and trying to make himself seem like he was fine. It's like they don't fucking understand. They die. They turn. They get bit or scratched...they die. Easy. Seems like rocket science to them.

"Look, man, there has to be something we can do. We could just lock him up," Oscar suggested. Non of them were getting the point. The whole reason we cut Hershel's leg was for that! So he didn't turn and try to kill us all. To save his life!

"Quarantine him," Axel suggested, his arms were still crossed over his chest and I looked around, noticing that everyone was watching me. Even T and Daryl. Everyone...looking to me for answers and no one is listening!

"We gotta do something. Why you just standing there? We gotta save him," Andrew asked, angered and nervous about the whole sitation. I understand they might all be friends but...there is no way of saving him! Non at all!

"There's nothing we can do," I tell them, trying to make them see but still trying to keep them calm. To tell them that there was nothing left for this guy other than death. There was no way he was going to survive. No chance in hell. No matter how much they want to preserve his life.

"You son of a bitch," Andrew growled at me, his grip on the basball bat was stronger and I watched him curiously. How could he say that when he is being so ignorant he thinks he knows it all when in fact he isn't listening to a word I say.

"I'm all ri-" big tiny went to say but was quickly smashed in the face with a silent weapon by Tomas. He kept hitting his head in, blood splattering everywhere, brain spilling and the foul look making our faces scrunch up in disgust. It was a vile sight. When Tomas was done, he looked to us and walked away.

"You see the look on his face?" I asked Daryl, knowing the look that was plastered on their face. It was the same look that Shane had before he died. The one I would see from time to time. Bloodlust. This guy wants death.

"He makes one move, just give me a signal," Daryl suggested and backed me up. I knew I could trust that he would kill this guy if the need arised. That this guy was a threat. He has the same look Shane had in his eyes. He must have been a murderer...

"I ain't opening that," Tomas said as he looked to me, his eyes angry and surprised. Glancing down at the keys I chucked to him, he looked at me curious, angry and slightly confused. Like I was putting his life on the line.

"Yes, you are. If you want this cell block, you're gonna open that door. Just the one, not both of them. Because we need to control this," I explain to him, trying to make him grow a pair and do something that would put him at risk and make us alert.

"You bitches ready? I got this," he said after a few tugs, he opened both doors and walkers began to climb out. We fought as many as we could and tried to keep formation, others stepping up and killing them as they wanted to. This is madness!

"I said one door!" I shouted at him as I sliced at a walker. They kept climbing out and it felt endless. We kept killing, my eyes were locked on the guy who opened the door and then to the walkers that got too close for comfort.

"Shit happens," he declared as he kept killing walkers. He then jabbed one, a murderous look on his face and threw it to me. The walker was still alive and grabbed at me, covering me as I tried to keep him away from me, both of us on the ground. Struggling I then heard shuffling feet come running after me.

"T, mind the gap!" Daryl growled as he ran towards me and killed the walker, helping me up and getting back to the others. We saw that the walkers were slowing down and that there weren't any more chasing towards us. Hungry and no more moaning or growling.

"It was coming at me, bro," Tomas said as we stared to each other, the sweat and slight fear from the walker had made my skin shine with sweat. My hand gripping my machete...my daughter's machete. My eyes glued on him as my jaw clenched.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I get it. Shit happens," I agreed, nodding and looking around. I then stared at him, I could see his body shivering and his mouth slightly agape, thinking of what I could possibly do and was probably afraid. Yes. Be afraid.

"No!" someone screamed as I swung my machete down on the top of Tomas' head, he stuck to it and I kicked his body off my machete. Andrew went to kill me but I kicked him down, Daryl raised his crossbow and T-Dog grew alert.

"Ah! Easy, now," Daryl growled but he then turned and ran, my nostrils flaring and my heart pounding. Fucker is so scared he runs away? Why does no one have the balls to kill me themselves? Instead of running away or trying to get walkers to do the job.

"I got him," I tell them as I ran after him, chasing him down hallways and reaching corners. When I saw him run out, he ended up in a court yard, his back to me and there were walkers around, surrounding him and getting closer to him. He's screwed.

"Let me back in, man. Let me back in! Open it up, man! Open up! Open up," Andrew pleaded, I didn't care. Looking around, I ended up shutting him in and locking him out of it. Walkers closing in on him and I just didn't give a fuck.

"You'd better run," I tell him. If he's smart he'll run. If he's smarter...he'll run away and never come back. This place isn't for him and never will be again. Hopefully...walkers get him. Walking away, I headed back to the others and saw that Daryl and T-Dog had the other two on their knees, weapons pointed to their heads.


LPOV

"Somebody help! Somebody! Please help!" I could hear Beth shouting through the cell block. Running to find them, I had seen that Hershel had stopped breathing. Much like how my daughter did years ago and began to check him for a pulse. It was slowing down.

"Come on. Come on," I encouraged him and myself to start breathing again. Blowing air through his mouth, covering his nose and then pumping his chest like I once had to for my daughter. Remembering each step like it was yesterday. Doing it I was then stunned when I felt a hand grab at my hair.

"No!" everyone screamed that were around me, Maggie and Beth pulling to away from Hershel who had grabbed the back of my head, frightening us. Hersehl then slowly began to breath again, his breathing was calm and his eyes were shut once more. He had fallen back to sleep. Looking to Carl I had seen he had his gun up, ready to shoot and his aim shaky at the possible thought of having to shoot Hershel down.

RPOV

"We didn't have nothing to do with that," Axel pleaded, tears were streaming down his face. He was scared, terrified and clearly pleading for his life. T-Dog had his eyes and gun aimed on Axel.

"You didn't know? You knew. Daryl, let's end this now," I growled as I saw Daryl hold his gun up, keeping it pressed to Oscar's head. Pacing around, I tried to create the tension I had feeling inside of me from the moment the doors opened.

"Sir, please, please, listen to me! It was them that was bad. It wasn't us," Axel pleaded as I aimed the barrel to his forhead. He trembled and pleaded, close to sobbing in front of us.

"Oh, that's convenient," I held back my laugh. Considering that they are criminals and that they were in here for their reasons. How can he say they are good people when they are judged guilty.

"You saw what he did to Tiny. He was my friend. Please, we ain't like that. I like my pharmaceuticals, but I'm no killer. Oscar here, he's a B and E, and he ain't very good at it neither. We ain't the violent kind, they were! Please, I swear to God! I wanna live!" Axel pleaded for the both of them.

"What about you?" I asked as I turned around and pressed the gun against Oscar's forhead. The barrel pressed up against his forehead. He didn't shiver or plead. Or even cry if I could convince him any more that he was going to die.

"I ain't never pleaded for my life...and I ain't about to start now. So you do what you gotta do," Oscar suggested to me. His eyes hard and his jaw clenching. He seemed so ready to die. He wasn't afraid.

"Oh, man. I knew these guys. They were good men," Axel said as I respected the two, taking their word but keeping my decision set from everything I said earlier. Walking into the jail block, we saw the cells were all opened and that there were shot bodies were on the ground.

"Let's go," I tell them as I walked towards T-Dog who clutched to the bars and looked to the others, looking to Daryl as I passed and looked over my shoulder to the prisoners. Keeping my machete in hand and going to turn back.

"So you're just gonna leave us in here?" Axel asked us, calling back to me and I just stayed silent. Of course we were. They haven't proven they can be fully trusted.

"Man, this is sick," Oscar said. This isn't sick. Sick is what we've been through. What we've seen and haven't seen. My daughter...dead. That's sick.

"We're locking down this cell block. From now on, this part of the prison is yours. Take it or leave it. That was the deal," I tell them, keeping my deal firm and reminding them that it was a deal and that was it.

"You think this is sick? You don't wanna know what's outside. Consider yourselves the lucky ones. Sorry about your friends, man," Daryl spoke as I stood beside T-Dog.

"A word of advice...take those bodies outside and burn them," I heard T say but me and Daryl waited a little down the hall, remembering the way back to the others.

"Hershel stopped breathing. Mom saved him," Carl told me. My eyes looking up to Lori and seeing her smile sadly. She used mouth to mouth...on our daughter...saved her too. It must have been hard for her to do that again...

"It's true," Glenn agreed when he looked to me and then to Lori. Carl seem pleased with Lori's actions. We all were. Hershel could probably live now and...maybe he is all right. Maybe we can survive now.

"Still no fever," Lori informed me as we all stood around Hershel, watching him and waiting patiently for him to wake up or turn into a walker. Curious, we then saw him start to move and breath a little more regularly.

We then saw Hershel slowly open his eyes, his blue eyes looked up at me and his hand reached out to take mine. Holding it, I chuckled and smiled at them, feeling slight tears form in my eyes of joy. "Come here," I said as the girls called for their dad, allowing them to take my place and following after Lori who had left to be alone. She's thinking of her...our daughter.


LPOV

"We'll start cleaning tomorrow," Rick spoke as he got closer to me, I needed to get some air and to keep away from the girls being with their dad. Feeling alone and lost since my daughter had died. It had been hard these months. Terribly hard. So hard that I could barely think without remembering her.

"Yeah. It'll give Carl a safe place to do whatever he does these days," I agreed. The two of us actually speaking about something without it suddenly turning into an argument. Carl had seemed so...distraught ever since his sister died. Never speaking and always acting, being reckless and never listening to us.

"For the record, I-...I don't think you're a bad mother," Rick tried to speak comforting, looking to him I saw him stare out into the distance. I don't know if I should believe him or not. He still thinks I left our daughter there to die...and I did. Even if I wanted to do something...it was too late.

"Well, wife is a different story. For better or worse, right? I mean, what are we gonna do? Hire lawyers and get divorced and split our assets?" I teased, thinking of the life we all once had and made Rick smile, chuckling lightly. "We got food. Hershel's alive. Today was a good day," I sniffed as I thought off all we had been through these past few hours. It was way too much to take in.

"He'd be dead if it weren't for you," Rick said trying to make me feel appreciated. He hasn't said something like that to me since we left the farm...he's been so cold towards me and the others since our daughter's death. I...I bet he's thinking of her right now.

"You're the one that acted fast. If you hadn't done what you did, then...I thought maybe you were coming out here to talk about us. Maybe there's nothing to talk about anymore," I said as I looked to him, looking away I could feel the pain in my chest and how hurt I was. He's grown so distant and cold...I feel like he doesn't love me anymore.

"We're awful grateful for what you did," Rick said as he placed his hand on my shoulder. Tears began to build at the thought of when I saved our daughter. Of how he looked at the distance just now. That was when I knew he was trying. When he walked away, I let the tears fall and pressed my cheek to where his hand once was. The warmth of it made my heart swell and shatter at the same time. I wish it was all back to the way it used to be...


So...what did you think? There may be some Andrea POV's and possibly Michonne's POV but...we'll have to see in the next chapter won't we? Thank you everyone who reviewed the chapter before this one! I got all 5 reviews in under 24 hours! Amazing! Can we do the same again for this chapter? Answer this: What do you think Kat will be like in the next chapter where it's just her, Michonne and Andrea arriving to Woodbury? Just 5 reviews again please! So I can post the next chapter as quickly as I can.

Now...replies to reviews!


Purple Dragon Ranger: I do too. The Daryl kissing Kat...that's unlikely dear. Sorry. Staying true to both Daryl and Kat's characters. They aren't the type to respond like that. Especially when they barely know each other like they do. So...sorry dear. Thank you for your review!


kayley . docherty: I already know when I plan to let Kat reunite with her family. There's going to be hard decisions she'll have to make but...it will help the development of her character. Trust me dear. Thank you for your review! I'm glad you're loving the story!


redangel2463: I know Andrea was annoying but...that's what Andrea would simply think. It's how I believe it happened seeing as they went to where they left the supplies for Sophia and it was gone. But you know Kat...she doesn't go down without a fight. Kat and Michonne will grow gradually too because well...Michonne is a complex character as you know. Kat will keep her thoughts to herself but...she's curious too about Michonne's past. Thanks for your review dear!


Guest: I'm glad you're enjoying this story! I love writing it myself. There is still a lot of amazing moments to come! Stay tuned! Thank you for your review dear!


Caity6991: Don't worry about Daryl and Carol. They're just...really good friends. Family almost but...what type of relationship. I won't tell until...maybe season 5. They've been through a lot over the 8 months. All of them. Kat with Andrea and Michonne. The group with each other and well...it makes them feel like family and like they can all trust each other. Do you understand dear? As for the Woodbury stuff...wait for the next chapter dear! Thank you for your review!


moonlite982: Wow! What a review! Thank you! I hope work slows down a little. As for the characters...I'm glad you like Kat! Especially with her family. Daryl well...I see him as distant through season 1 and 2. Season 3...a lot of time has passed. For both groups. So they've strengthened. All of them. Whereas...I see Daryl forgiving at times or sorrowful when it comes to loved ones. For example, Carl when he lost his mom and Daryl was sorry. Daryl is more comfortable now in his role. He is Rick's wingman. I will take your words into account! Thank you!


An Amber Pen: Glad you like it! Thank you for the review!


Happy new year!

Until the 5 reviews...

Much love!

HeroJustInTime90 x