The Wolves make their presence known.
Warning: minor character death following closely the same events in the TWD comic's Jessick arc.
Disclaimer: Kirkman owns the comics & a big part of the TV show, so the plots in them are his & the other writers', not mine. If I did, Jessie would've been more than another man pain plot device and Rick would get his head out of his ass.
No More Let Life Divide
"No more let life divide what death can join together." – Adonais,by Percy Bysse Shelly
As it turned out the Wolves didn't have to tear down the walls.
They came over them.
They parked their semi-trailer trucks at the wall; the tops of the cabs just the right height for them to release the walkers, dozens of them, down and out onto the streets of Alexandria.
The strategy was a sound one. Loose the monsters on a complacent community believing itself safe behind its barrier; let them do your dirty work, and then come in after the slaughter to mop up. Minimal risk of manpower and if there was any resistance, have the snipers stationed atop the trucks take them out with kill shots, not head shots though; the idea was to make more walkers, kill two birds...
If they didn't plan to stay awhile, or if the walls weren't much of a barrier, like in Richmond, they went through not over, but from the pictures they found in Aaron's backpack, they'd decided the ASZ would make an excellent new base of operations. Why waste time repairing the walls if you didn't have to?
They'd scouted the area around the town for several days beforehand, keeping track of the comings and goings of the citizens, what time patrols checked the outskirts, looking for the best time to attack. The heavy rain had given them cover, especially after Daryl's fall had shut down most of the exterior work for the day.
At the farthest section of the compound was a blind spot that couldn't be easily spotted from the church tower. They started dropping the dead over the wall, ten at a time in nets, releasing them to flop around like the catch of the day until they managed to climb to their feet and walk.
Because of the rain most Zone residents had been indoors earlier in the day, but once it let up in the afternoon they started to emerge and go about their business.
Rick had been urging Jessie to get out of her house, go back to work at the pantry, to contribute to the preparations. Carl had come along to do the same for Ron.
After hearing how Sam had saved Daryl by helping at the wall, his mother had realized that it was her responsibility to do no less. They'd been walking down the street, heading for the pantry when the herd reached the town center, a parade of death lurching up Main Street.
Sam saw them first and stopped to stare, unnoticed by the others who got about twenty feet ahead of him until his mother noticed he wasn't beside her and turned to look for him.
Jessie froze, screaming out her boy's name and then started running back to get him as the walkers started to surround him. Carl sprinted after her while Rick pulled out his Colt and machete and yelled at Ron, telling him to go sound the alarm. The boy hesitated, wanting to go help his mother and brother, but Rick shoved him, hard.
"I'll get them—you go! Now or we're all dead!" the constable ordered, snapping Ron out of his shock by pointing the Colt at him, and the boy took off at a run for Deanna's place.
Others on the street started screaming and running, someone with a gun started shooting; all it took was for a few to forget their recent training when confronted with the reality of walkers and pandemonium broke out.
Carl had made it to Jessie, using his big knife to take out the walkers in his path, but there were too many of them. He reached her, but saw no sign of Sam in the growing crowd of walkers even though she continued to scream his name. Grabbing the woman's left arm he started dragging her away, but she fought him.
"No! We can't leave him! He's just a little boy!" Jessie sobbed.
"He's gone! We have to get out of here!" Carl yelled, stabbing the closest corpse through the eye and pulling out the blade with a sharp snick.
Just as Rick reached them, two large walkers, one in khaki rags that may have once been Army fatigues, and the other a leering lipless horror, got a holdof the struggling woman's other arm and leg, initiating a tug of war for her that Carl could never hope to win.
As the dead soldier took a gory chunk out of her thigh and the other latched his teeth onto her shoulder, Jessie screamed and took a death grip on Carl's hand and forearm, dooming him as well.
A few seconds later all Carl saw was a curtain of blood and he fell back, pulled up by his father's strong arms and then he was running, almost tripping over Jessie's severed arm lying in the street. The dead swarmed her body, giving them enough time to reach the safety of the med clinic where Aaron stood on the porch, firing at the closest walkers and beckoning the Grimes in through the open gate of the picket fence. Inside the clinic they found Carol, who was holding a weeping Sam against her.
"Jessie?" Carol mouthed silently, looking behind them, but Aaron shook his head no. Carol's face fell and she hugged Sam closer, the bloody trench knife in her hand and gore spattered on her clothes telling the tale of how she'd waded out into the herd to save the child.
"Daryl?" Rick asked grimly, wiping the back of his bloody hand, still holding the red handled machete, over his bloodshot streaming eyes, looking over at the empty cot.
"Rosita got him to the Armory shelter." Carol said with assurance. She had checked after returning to the clinic interior with Sam and their way across the backyard had been clear of walkers.
Rick nodded, thankful for some good news.
"Rick! Come in, over?" the walkie talkie hanging from Rick's utility belt came to life suddenly, just as the dead started to push against the waist high fence surrounding their temporary refuge.
"Maggie! Are the walls down?" Rick asked, furious and anxious. He knew Tara and Glenn would take care of Judith and get her to the shelter, but he still wanted to be there himself to watch over her.
"Not sure—Sasha can't tell where they're all coming from—Abe and Tobin took one of the buses to do recon at the back and fill the breach if needed." Maggie replied.
Eugene's new system of digital video surveillance cameras on the walls was only about ¾ completed. He had warned them about the blind spots in the southern section, but the power grid had to be rerouted to that area before they could be put in place. They just didn't have enough people to do frequent enough patrol sweeps and finish up all the other needed tasks; it had left them vulnerable.
"How many walkers?" Rick asked.
"Good sized herd—we're picking them off with guns from inside the houses, but they're gonna reach a critical mass and start coming in after us if we don't plug the hole quick." Maggie told him.
Rick raised his eyes to Carol, clearly looking for suggestions on what to do next.
"Stick with the plan. Get the best marksmen hidden up on roofs and get the rest into the basement shelters—black out conditions." Carol said, "Whoever is running the show needs to think we're all dead or turned before they'll come in."
"Trojan horse..." Aaron grinned. They had enough supplies, weapons and ammo in the four shelters to last a week. Some had complained about the rationing they'd had to do to make it possible, but Carol had been adamant. Siege warfare was as old as the first fort built and the first rule was if possible, wait the attackers out so they'd run out of supplies before you did.
In this case however, playing possum would draw the Wolves inside. After the attackers cleared the town of walkers using their pied piper system and gave the all clear, the townspeople would spring into action, roof snipers helping by ambushing any left after the little surprises prepared by Morgan and his crew were done with them.
Rick relayed the word to Maggie and those with her at the command post, including Deanna, who agreed.
"All right—we need to get Sam to the Armory shelter; Aaron will stay there and then we'll get rifles for Carl, me and Carol. We'll be up on the roofs."
If Aaron hadn't just watched Carol coolly wade into the middle of a herd armed with only a knife and not only come back alive, but bring the kid along for the ride, he might've wondered at Rick's adding her name to the sniper list. About now nothing would surprise him about the woman Daryl loved.
"We can't leave Abe and Tobin out there alone." Carl protested, looking beseechingly at his father.
"They'll make it back or they won't, we don't have time to go after them." Rick said, shaking his head, "Let's go."
Carl turned to Carol for help.
"I'm sorry Carl—we all have our jobs to do—it's going to take all of us to get safely to the Armory now—Judith will be there, Daryl's there, we have to get Sam there." Carol said in her no bull, serious but gentle voice.
Carl stared at her and looked down at Sam, who had just lost his mother in as brutal a way as he had lost his own, and finally nodded in resigned agreement.
"All right, I'll take point, Aaron take drag—try not to use your gun unless you have to, the quieter we are the better." Rick said, moving to look out the back window. "It's still fairly clear out the back; we're only two houses away if we cut down the alley."
Sam was still clinging to Carol so she had to pry his hands and arms away from her waist and force him to look up at her.
"Sam!" Carol said sharply and he slowly raised his dull tear reddened eyes to her face.
"They got her, didn't they?" the boy asked, sounding hopeless.
"Yes—and they'll get us too if we don't go now." Carol said, making Aaron wince at the stark honesty in her tone. Instead of starting to cry though, Sam simply took Carol's knifeless hand and held it tightly, nodding to show he understood. He tugged on her, leading her over to the table where Daryl's bow still lay and she nodded back, releasing his hand so she could pull it over her shoulder, the weight a comforting reminder that she would see him soon.
"We're ready." Carol said, taking Sam's hand again and Rick carefully opened the back door, machete held at the ready.
Just as Aaron passed through the back door and pulled it closed behind him, moaning walkers broke through the front windows of the clinic, reaching their clawed hands through, grasping at the empty air as they tried to climb inside; knowing their prey was escaping.
As they ran they could hear more shooting and screams as they methodically took out any walkers who ventured into their path. Aaron felt fully vindicated in recruiting these people, these battle hardened survivors. He knew they were the only thing that stood between everyone here ending up joined in death with the rest of the Wolves' victims.
"Can you see anyone coming from the Clinic building?" Daryl asked again in his low gravel laced whisper. He sat holding his big Bowie knife with a silenced pistol in his lap in a wheeled desk chair in front of the play pen where Judith stood, clinging fretfully to the side, upset by the sounds of gunfire, something she had known meant trouble pretty much her entire short life.
"Too many bodies in the way." Tara muttered flatly from where she stood peeking out of a small peephole in the plywood nailed over the basement window of the street side of the Armory.
Walkers shuttled back and forth in front of her at street level; her sight line was filled with shoes and boots of all shapes and sizes, some almost pristine while others were covered in mud and other things she didn't want to think about. The worst though was the one small pair of almost blue bare feet in bloody bunny slippers.
"Better here." Glenn said softly from his mirror position on the other side of the basement.
"Will they know to come that way? Why don't we have a walkie to talk to them? How long are we going to have to be down here? Why don't you have your crossbow?" Olivia rambled nervously, hovering over Daryl, who winced away from her as if a fly was buzzing too close.
"Eugene!" Daryl growled quietly, and the shock of not being called "The Mullet" made the other man shoot to his feet and quickly come to Daryl's side.
"Mr. D-Dixon, sir?" Eugene said softly, his brow screwed up into an extremely worried frown. That he wasn't totally freaking out was a surprise to Daryl, but he'd seen a change in the self-admitted coward since his rescue of Tara at the factory.
"You n'..." Daryl indicated Olivia with a bob of his head, "need to be loadin' clips for us now. Even for me since I don't got my bow." he added a bit sarcastically. He was still pissed he hadn't had the presence of mind to grab it when they left the Clinic. His throbbing leg reminded him he'd had other concerns, but he was still pissed.
"Carl will be with them." Rosita told Enid in a reassuring hushed voice. The teen was pacing the small open area between the stairs and the shelves of supplies stacked against the walls.
"You don't know that." Enid bit out flatly, continuing to pace.
"Rick will always make sure Carl and Judith are in the safest possible place, and that's here." Rosita said. She hadn't known Grimes long, but that was something she was dead sure of. His priority was always his children first. Sometimes it made him go off the deep end, but they'd all been there at one time or another since this thing began, so she had been willing to cut him some slack, maybe even more so than the others.
She'd seen closer than anyone else how losing his kids and wife had messed with Abraham's head...
"It's Rick—get ready at the door!" Glenn said to Enid in a harsh whisper.
The girl bolted up the stairs silently—she could move like a cat—her switchblade knife out and ready. They all heard the sound of footsteps and fighting above them, one, then two bodies dropping and then three quick knocks on the door to the first floor.
"Rick?" Enid asked and the reply had her quickly unbolting and swinging open the barricade bar and locks.
To Daryl's relief, Carol came in first, with Sam behind her. The boy was even paler than usual and everyone else looked like a blood splatter pattern test gone wrong, shades of gore from red to black all over them from their battle to get here. Rick immediately stripped off his bloody jacket and then went to the playpen and picked up his daughter, holding her close.
Daryl could tell Carol wanted to run to him and embrace him too, the way Enid was now doing with Carl, but she was in battle mode and settled for a relieved smile. He looked at the small boy glued to her side and then up the stairs for any others.
"That it?" Daryl asked Aaron, the last one in, who was still at the top of the stairs resealing the entrance.
"My mom's not coming. She's dead." Sam announced, bringing all eyes to him. Rick looked away first, then down at Judith. Daryl exchanged a look with Carol and then Carl who sighed and put his hand on Sam's thin shoulder.
"Yeah. Lotta that goin' around." Daryl said quietly, welcoming him to the tribe of motherless lost boys. "Sorry kid."
Sam looked surprised. It was the first time Daryl had ever spoken directly to him.
"I ran—Miss Carol saved me—I couldn't save my mom." Sam said sadly and then looked up at Carol, "Can you teach me how to save people?"
A brief look of pain flashed over Carol's face.
"I don't think we get to save people anymore..." the memory of what she'd said to him in that small room in the Women's Shelter in Atlanta, the horrible irony of it after Beth, Ty and Noah made Daryl look at her in empathy. He knew she didn't want to be responsible for another orphaned child; she'd been pushing this one away from her with both hands since the day they'd met.
"Carl?" Daryl said, "Get the kid a good knife and start workin' with him. Good way to stay busy while we wait. You too, Wednesday." Her deadpan air and dark hair and eyes had made Daryl dole out the nickname of the Addams family's daughter to Enid.
Enid scowled at him, but Carl looked glad for something to keep him busy and led the boy over to the wall where the weapons were hanging, moved down here from the upstairs racks.
"How many rounds do we have for the scoped rifles?" Rick asked, coming closer to Carol.
"For the five we have down here two boxes of a hundred rounds each." Carol said, "Same in the other shelters."
"Goin' with the plan?" Daryl asked.
Aaron, Rosita, Olivia and Eugene came closer. Glenn and Tara stayed on watch, but divided their attention between the walkers outside and the conversation inside.
"You should call in first—see if Maggie knows anything new." Carol told Rick who looked briefly panicked when he reached down and his walkie wasn't at his belt. Carol took it out of her coat pocket and handed it to him.
"That last pesky little walker..." Carol said wryly, obviously understating whatever had happened. "Knocked it loose."
The one she meant had been a beast. It must've been a WWF wrestler or a pro linebacker on steroids in life. It was simply the biggest ugliest walker any of them had ever seen. It had grabbed on to Rick in a mockery of a loving embrace, trying to crush him, pinning his arms to his sides.
As he struggled to escape he lost both the Colt and the walkie. The rising egg of a contusion on his forehead was from the insane head butt he'd tried to get free. Next thing he knew he was on the ground trying to catch his breath.
"My ears are still ringing a bit..." Rick gave a snort and shot a small grin of thanks to his son. Carl had scooped up the Python and fired point blank into the walker's temple, perilously close to Rick's head, but it had taken it down and let them make it into the Armory. He took the walkie from Carol, grateful that she had the presence of mind to grab it, thanking her as well with a shoulder pat.
Daryl was glad to see the camaraderie was still there between his friends. Since coming to the ASZ things had been different, strained, as they all pursued different paths to find their way here.
While Rick checked in, Carol brought Daryl his bow.
"You keep leaving this thing places." Carol teased mildly, handing it to him.
"Just wanna give you a reason to keep findin' me." Daryl shrugged, resting the bow against the side of his chair, cocking his head to the side and squinting up at her.
"I don't need a reason." Carol said softly.
Daryl reached out his hand to her and she grasped it firmly. This was what she knew she was good at; she was strong and capable in a crisis. It was in the down time between them when she could falter. Self reflection made her doubt; the memories haunted her if she had too much time to let them in. Daryl could pull her back from the brink.
The look they gave each other was soul deep.
Daryl pulled her closer and she leaned in and kissed him, but they were interrupted by Rick clearing his throat.
"Never fails." Daryl grumbled against her lips and Carol smiled a tiny smile as she pulled away.
Rick looked down at their still joined hands and the corner of his mouth tilted up in a little grin, happy for them, but then his expression darkened as he thought of Jessie. Guilt washed over him and he brushed a kiss to Jude's sweet smelling head as she looked at Sam and Carl.
Jessie had died because she'd tried to save her child. He'd killed her because he was saving his.
Rick handed the walkie off to Aaron so he could talk to Eric and then approached Daryl and Carol, who were looking at him expectantly. She noticed his gaze fixed on the boys and realized what he must be thinking.
"I'm sorry about Jessie." Carol offered. She hadn't really approved of the budding relationship, but hadn't wished the woman gone, especially not like this, by Rick's hand. She hadn't let Sam see, but couldn't stop him from hearing his mother's screams.
Rick just nodded in that way he did when he had no words.
"Maggie said all the survivors are in the shelters—we lost seven—Abe made it back, but Tobin's dead—picked off by snipers." he paused a moment to let that sink in. Rosita looked relieved; the others regretful that they'd lost more people.
Eugene looked at Olivia's stunned face, imagining what she was thinking—if someone as good with weapons as Tobin could die, what chance did they have?
"Abe said it looks like they pulled their big rigs up to the wall and tossed the dead over." Rick continued.
"Shit." Daryl bit out angrily. "Spent all this time worryin' about them assholes knockin' down the walls. Over or under works just as good."
"If they have snipers up high—" Carol said leadingly and Rick swore.
"So much for that part of our plan—they'll be able to see us on the roofs." Carl said from over in the corner.
"Sasha and Spencer are still in the tower." Glenn added as Aaron handed him the walkie to talk with Maggie. It was dangerous for them to remain there; if they were spotted they'd be attacked, but the Intel they could provide was invaluable.
"Looks like it's Morgan's show now." Carol said. "He and his crew will be setting up."
"Batten down the hatches then. We still have to wait for them to decide we're all dead before they come in." Rick nodded with a grim grin.
"I sort of feel sorry for the assholes." Daryl drawled with a matching feral expression and dark chuckle.
So we have the end of Jessick. I pretty much followed what happened in the comics: Rick taking her out when she endangered Carl during a walker attack.
I would like to think they would be this prepared when the Wolves attack, but considering how poorly they dealt with the fall of the prison, I won't hold my breath, LOL!
Thanks for sticking with me! I hope you are enjoying my take on the ASZ.
I can't tell you how much I appreciate those of you who favorite and follow and have time to leave me reviews!