Note: Hello, all! This week's song is "Heavenly Father" by Bon Iver, and if you have the time I think you should totally listen to it. It may not be your cup of tea, but if it is then it will be THE cup of tea. If that makes sense. It might not, I'm like, half asleep as I write this. Anyway, please read on and tell me what you think!
3. Heavenly Father
"Go back, go back!"
The group, scrunched up at yet another corner of the prison's labyrinthine corridors, hastily backed up. Mason was in the lead with Rick and Daryl, and just past them she could see the cluster of walkers that had caught their scent.
"Shit," she hissed. She raised her fire poker just as Glenn pulled her back by the sleeve.
"Come on, we have to go!" he said.
They took off running, stumbling over dead bodies and running into each other in the dark. Mason wished, as she rammed into T-Dog's broad figure for the third time, that there'd been enough flashlights to go around.
The snarls of the walkers hounded them onward as they followed the spray-painted arrows back the way they'd come. Faster than all of them, Mason took the lead and very nearly ran into a second group of walkers as she turned a corner.
"Shit!"
Teeth snapped just inches from her nose. Fetid breath burned her nostrils, making her gag. She stumbled backward just as Daryl grabbed her arm and yanked her away.
The group turned down a third hallway. It led them deeper into the prison, away from the exit, but there was no other choice. The walkers were closing in from both sides.
After what felt like an eternity in the dark, Rick pulled them all to a halt against the wall.
"Where are Glenn and Maggie?" he said, and for the first time she realized that the two were not with them. Fear splintered in her chest.
"We have to go back for them," Hershel said.
Rick nodded and all of them tensed, waiting for their opportunity. When the sound of the walkers faded Mason and T-Dog leaned out into the hall, weapons ready, and motioned for the others to follow.
They kept their voices low, calling out Glenn's and Maggie's names at regular intervals in the dark. Rick and Daryl took the lead and Hershel fell back, checking every shadow. Mason's heart pounded at the look on his face.
"Maggie?" she hissed. "Glenn?"
There was nothing but silence, aside from the whispers of the others.
And then she heard the scream.
She turned around so fast her ankle nearly gave out beneath her. Rick and Daryl shot past her. When she caught her balance she followed with T-Dog on her heels.
Hershel was the first thing she saw, writhing on the ground with a walker attached to his leg. Her stomach dropped to the floor. She rushed futilely for him but Rick beat her to it, cleaving the walker's head in two, and then there was Glenn, and Maggie wailing for her father, and suddenly everything was too hot, too close. It was hard to breathe.
"NO! DADDY!"
Maggie shook violently as Glenn and Rick swept Hershel to his feet. They tried to carry him back in the direction they had come from, but the walkers, alerted to the noise, shambled around the corner, hasty with hunger.
"Go back, go back, move!" Rick said and the group rushed deeper into the prison.
Daryl and Mason fell back behind the others, weapons aimed at the walkers who kept up a frighteningly even pace. They must have been half-starved. Their teeth clacked relentlessly, hands swiping whenever they got too close. Mason took a few of them down but it did no good, and before she knew it they were coming to a dead end.
"The door, get the door!"
T-Dog reached for her fire poker and she handed it over without question. One of the walkers swiped at her hair and she kicked his legs out from under him. In the background there was the loud clang of metal, and then the doors ahead were swept open. Daryl and Mason pressed after them, only closing the doors once everyone else was inside.
Mason barely registered that they had made it to the cafeteria. Her heart was thudding so fast it felt like her blood was flying in her veins. T-Dog slid her fire poker through the door handles, and though the walkers pressed in earnest they could not find a way to break them open. Still, T-Dog stood close to the doors and tossed Mason his gun in exchange for her unavailable weapon.
Assured that they were at least relatively safe, Mason hovered closer to where the others crouched on the floor around Hershel. Now that they were stopped she could smell the blood, and her lungs clenched tighter in her chest. She breathed through her mouth instead.
Everyone tensed with new purpose when Rick fumbled for his belt. Realization dawned quick and clear for Mason, too, and her knees shook.
Ohshitohfuckohshit.
Maggie held her father closer to her as Rick tied the belt around his leg. The blade of his hatchet gleamed ominously in the thin, dusty light.
"There's only one way to keep him alive," Rick said, as though to convince himself, just before bringing the hatchet down on Hershel's leg.
Mason's stomach rolled. Hershel's screams trailed off as the blood gushed from his severed arteries.
"He's bleeding out," Rick said, like he couldn't quite believe what he had done. Mason swayed on her feet, looking anywhere but at the blood spreading toward her feet.
Before anyone could respond, Daryl trained his eyes on something beyond Rick.
"Duck."
Rick crouched down and Daryl stood up, aiming his crossbow at the barrier that cut through the cafeteria. Five figures stood there. Five men with skin that had not rotted and teeth that did not gnash and eyes that were not dead.
"Holy shit," one of them breathed.
Mason aimed her gun without thinking about it, stepping forward to flank Daryl. T-Dog left his post at the door and stood on her left.
"Who the hell are you?" Daryl said.
"Who the hell are you?" one of them- a short guy, Hispanic- replied.
Behind them, Rick and the others were paying them no attention.
"He's bleeding out, we have to go," Rick said.
"Come on outta there," Daryl said. "Slow and steady."
He and Mason edged closer to the barred door, where the Hispanic man crept out. His eyes flicked back and forth between them and Hershel.
"What happened to him?"
"He got bit," Daryl growled.
"Bit?"
The man's hand twitched toward the gun tucked in his belt. Mason stepped closer, aiming her gun between his eyes.
"Don't even fucking think about it," she said.
In a flash his gun was out, pointed at her face.
"Whoa, whoa, easy now." Daryl flanked her, so close his arm brushed hers. "Nobody needs to get hurt."
But nobody lowered their weapons.
Suddenly Glenn rushed past them, muttering something about medical supplies. Mason tensed as the Hispanic man followed him with his gun.
"Who the hell are you people?" he said.
A short man with a moustache fidgeted behind him. "Sure as hell don't look like no rescue team."
"We're not," Mason said. She stepped out of the way as Glenn brushed past, pushing a rolling metal table in front of him.
Then Rick was shouting, "We gotta go!" and T-Dog rushed back to open the door. The strangers flinched away, horrified.
"Don't open that!"
"We got this," T replied, and the snarl of a walker cut off with a thud.
Risking a look back, Mason caught a glimpse of Hershel's pale face as they carted him away. Her stomach twisted, heavy and hot.
"Daryl! Mason!" Rick called.
They backed away quickly, keeping their weapons trained on the strangers, and even when the doors swung shut they didn't relax. Flank to flank, they followed the group through the tunnels, unwavering, except when Mason tripped over the arm of a dead walker. Daryl caught her before she could fall, fingers strong and rough around her arm.
Finally, finally, the door to the cell block came into view, but Mason felt no relief at the sight. Her chest felt too tight, like it was squeezing her lungs. Sweat ran down her face, stinging her eyes.
When they reached the common area, Carl unlocked the cell block door and everyone rushed through except her and Daryl. They stood side by side, eyes on the tunnel door, waiting. Shouts came from the cell block. Mason thought she heard Beth's voice, high with fright, and pain ran through her, iron hot.
The Hispanic man came through the door, stealing her attention. The others trailed in after him.
"That's far enough," Mason growled. The others stopped, but the Hispanic man continued to inch forward.
"Cell block C," he said. "That's my cell block. Let me in."
"Today's your lucky day fellas," Daryl said. "You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You're free to go."
"What you got going on in there?"
"That's none of your concern."
The man raised his gun. "The hell it's not."
"Tomas, c'mon," another man- a brick wall of a man- said. "We're free now, why don't we just go?"
"Man's got a point," Daryl said.
"Bunch of civilians breaking into a prison they got no business being in?" Tomas shrugged. "Got me thinking there's no place for us to go."
Mason tensed, her finger poised over the trigger. "Why don't you go find out?"
The mustached man glanced nervously from her to Tomas. "Maybe we should be going…"
"We ain't leaving."
"Like hell you aren't," Mason said.
"This is my house, my rules, and we ain't leaving."
"It's our house now, asshole."
"What did you say to me?" Tomas twitched his gun in her direction, eyes gleaming. "You better watch your mouth, you little bitch."
Daryl tensed. "Hey, maybe you listen to her. She knows better about this world than you do."
"This is my world, you people don't belong here."
"We do now."
"What did I say, bitch?" Tomas stalked forward until his gun was just a foot away from her forehead. She didn't flinch.
Silent as a shadow, Daryl was there with his crossbow, standing between them. Mason glared over his shoulder; she didn't look away from Tomas and he didn't look away from her.
"Back up," Daryl said. "Or I make this decision for you."
Suddenly there came the sound of the cell door opening and Rick and T-Dog rushed over.
"Hey, hey, everyone back off. There's no need for this."
Tomas glanced at Rick but Mason never broke her stare.
"How many of you are in there?"
"Too many for you to handle," Rick said.
Tomas didn't seem to care about the threat in his voice. His gun stayed frozen on Mason's face and Daryl never moved.
"That guy you chopped up," Tomas said. "Why don't you take him to a hospital?"
Mason stifled a snort. T-Dog and Rick exchanged a glance.
"How long have you been locked in that cafeteria?" Rick said.
Tomas paused. His eyes flicked around suspiciously. "I don't know, like ten months."
"Riot broke out," the mammoth man said. "Never seen anything like it."
One of the little ones, a black man, spoke up. "Heard about dudes going cannibal…dying, coming back to life… Crazy shit."
"One guard looked out for us," Tomas said. "Locked us up in the cafeteria. Told us he'd be right back and gave me this piece."
"That was two hundred and ninety-two days ago," another man- not quite as huge as the mammoth, but huge enough- said. "We keep waiting for the Army or the National Guard to show up any day now."
"There is no Army," Rick said. "There's no government, no hospitals, no police. It's all gone."
The mustached man's eyes bulged. "For real?"
"Serious."
"What about my old lady?" Not-Quite-as-Mammoth Man said. "Hey, you got a cell phone or something so we can call our families?"
"You just don't get it, do you?" Daryl snapped.
"No phones, no computers," Rick said. "As far as we can see at least half the population's been wiped out."
As the news sunk in, eliciting various degrees of shock, Tomas finally lowered his gun. Without looking behind him, Daryl nudged Mason back little by little until she stood between Rick and T-Dog.
After a crackling silence, Tomas shook his head. "Ain't no way," he sneered.
"See for yourself," Rick said.
So they led the prisoners out of the cell block, down into the yard where yesterday they had faced down the walkers. The bodies were still there, evidence to reality. While the prisoners milled uncertainly through the carnage, Mason fell back to exchange weapons with T.
"So what is this, a disease?" Mammoth Man said.
"Yeah. And we're all infected."
With the comforting weight of her fire poker back in her hands, Rick's words had less impact. She already knew this, of course. She'd seen it in action. But the memories welled up in her brain and she felt stronger, better prepared to banish them, with her own weapon.
"What do you mean infected?" Moustache asked. "Like AIDS or something?"
Mason smirked and shook her head. "If I were to jab this through your heart, you'd come back as one of them. It'll happen to all of us someday."
Tomas and the short black man exchanged a glance, and then Tomas looked at Rick.
"Where'd you come from?"
"Atlanta."
Tomas nodded and sauntered closer.
"Where you headed?"
Mason tightened her grip on the poker.
Rick met Tomas's gaze. "For now, nowhere. We took out these walkers, this prison's ours."
"Slow down, cowboy," Tomas scoffed.
"You smashed the locks off our doors," Short Man said.
"We'll give you new locks, if that's how you want it," Rick said.
"This is our prison," Tomas said. "We were here first."
"Locked in a broom closet?" Mason said.
"We took this prison, set you free, it's ours," Rick said.
"We're moving back into our cell block," Tomas replied.
"You'll have to get your own."
"It is mine. I still got personal artifacts in there, that's about as mine as it gets!"
Tomas pulled out his gun. Mason, Daryl and T-Dog all closed ranks around Rick, weapons ready.
"Whoa, whoa, maybe let's try to make this work out so everybody wins!" Moustache said, stepping between the two groups.
"I don't see that happening," Tomas said.
"Neither do I," Rick said.
Moustache blinked at Tomas. "There are other cell blocks."
"Or you can leave," Daryl said. "Try your luck out on the road."
For a moment, everyone was silent. Mason's heart beat sure and slow, confident now that she felt worlds away from Hershel and the others. This was something she was familiar with. This was something she could fight.
Finally Tomas shrugged. "If these pussies can do all this, the least we can do is take out another cell block. As long as Mister Cowboy, here, lends us some real weapons."
Rick hesitated. "How stocked is that cafeteria?"
"There's only a little left," Tomas said. Mason didn't trust the cold calculation in his eyes.
Neither did Rick. "Then we'll take half," he said. "In exchange, we'll help clear out a cell block."
"Didn't you hear him?" Short Man said. "There's only a little left."
"Bet you got more food than you got choices," Rick replied. "We clear out a block for you, you keep to it."
"Alright," Tomas said.
"But let's be clear." Rick stepped forward, until he was nose to nose with Tomas. "If we see you out here anywhere near our people, if I so much as catch a whiff of your scent, I will kill you."
Tomas didn't back down. There was something in his expression that Mason didn't like.
"Deal."
~m~
Mason went along to help carry back food from the pantry. She could barely keep her mouth from watering as she followed T-Dog back through the tunnels to their cell block, carrying two whole boxes of canned food. It was more food than she could remember seeing in almost a year.
Carl met them at the door, his eyes lighting up at the sight of their cache. "Whatcha got?" he asked.
"Canned beef, canned corn, canned cans," T answered. "There's a lot more where this came from."
Rick, bringing up the rear, stopped by Hershel's cell, where Lori, Carol and Glenn were gathered. Mason stared straight ahead, following Carl to the cell on the end.
"We'll get this organized, see exactly what we got so we can ration it," she said.
Carl nodded, more excited than she'd ever seen him. "Okay!"
She sat with him for a while, stacking cans and joking about the meals they could make with them.
"How about a…green bean burger?" Carl held the can of green beans up like a torch.
Mason wrinkled her nose. "Oh Christ, I just can't get away from those little green fuckers."
Carl laughed. "Or maybe we could make green bean pudding."
"Hey, kid, don't you get me started on desserts, okay? I would kill someone for a piece of cheesecake right now."
This time Carl wrinkled his nose. Mason gaped at him.
"You don't like cheesecake?"
"I've never had it," Carl admitted. "But cheese and cake just don't belong together."
"You know, there are people who put cheese on apple pie-"
"Ew, gross!"
"Mason?"
Mason looked up to see Rick watching her with the strangest expression on his face. She couldn't place it but it made her blush.
"I'll be back, puddin'," she said to Carl and followed Rick to the cell block door.
She waited for him to speak but he was quiet. After a moment he held something out to her, and she realized for the first time that he held her pack.
Hesitantly, she took it. Only then did Rick speak.
"I want you to stay here when we clear out the other cell block."
She frowned. "Rick, you can't trust them-"
"Which is exactly why I want you here. I need someone to stay behind to protect the group. If there are others lurking around I need to know someone's keeping my people safe."
"And you think that someone should be me? Isn't Glenn staying behind?"
"Glenn needs to stay with Maggie. He needs to be there when…" He trailed off, and Mason pretended she didn't know what he was going to say. Then he smiled slightly. "You've already kept them safe. But Carl…Beth…they need you here."
Mason swallowed hard. Her stomach fluttered nervously. "Rick…"
He laid a hand on her shoulder before she could find the words.
"I trust you," he said.
She couldn't decide if she was flattered or terrified. Still she looked him right in the eyes and said, "I'll protect them." Knowing full well what she was promising.
Knowing full well she had promised it before.
He nodded and headed out into the commons area, where Daryl and T-Dog waited. She watched them for a moment, wishing she could go, too.
"Mason?"
The delicate, bell voice sent a shard through her stomach, sharper than ever because even after two days it was already so familiar.
She turned warily to face Beth.
"Can you help me with somethin'?" Her face was clear and calm, but Mason suspected it took a lot of effort to keep it that way.
"Sure."
Beth led her to their cell, where a cluster of pants were piled on the floor. Mason raised an eyebrow.
"They're my dad's," Beth said. "I was hopin' you could help me adjust them. It's gonna be kinda hard for him to walk with one side draggin' on the ground."
Her face was still calm, but her eyes seared through Mason's. She wasn't stupid. But she wasn't a quitter, either. Mason smiled gently.
"Well, we'd better get to work, then."
They worked in silence for a while, ripping the right leg off each pair of pants and setting the torn fabric aside.
"Glenn said they found you in the woods, playin' music."
Mason paused. "Yes."
She knew what was coming next and she wasn't sure how to answer, or if she even wanted to. When Daryl had asked her last night it was all she could do not to break down.
You can't even think about it, how the hell do you expect to tell anyone about it?
Rigid with stress, she waited for Beth to speak.
"What kind of music?"
Mason looked up. Beth appeared as innocent as always, focused on tearing the last ragged strip from a pair of khakis. Her eyes flickered up only briefly, and Mason saw in them nothing but gentle curiosity.
Slowly she smiled. "Cage the Elephant. Ever heard of 'em?"
Beth shook her head.
"I don't really know how to describe them… Redneck alternative, I guess."
"So you're a redneck?"
"Well, I listen to other stuff, too. I'm only forty-five percent redneck. Hmm, let me guess…you listen to Slayer?"
Beth giggled. "No."
"Megadeth?"
"No."
"Slipknot?"
"Nope."
"Really? You look pretty metal to me."
"More like a choir girl."
Mason swallowed hard and looked away from her disarmingly soft face. Thankfully Beth didn't seem to notice.
"I used to sing a lot when I was little," she said. "Folk songs and church songs, anything I heard my family singin'. Used to play piano, too. We had an old upright and my daddy would listen to me no matter how many times he heard the same song…"
She trailed off. Her fingers stilled over the fabric. Ignoring all of her better instincts, Mason laid a hand on Beth's.
"You'll get to sing for him again."
She regretted the words immediately, because when Beth looked at her there was hope in her eyes.
You asshole, she thought. Stop promising ridiculous things.
But she wanted it to be a promise. She wanted it to be a promise she could keep. She wanted the hope in Beth's eyes to be rewarded.
"Maggie says we can't count on him wakin' up," Beth said. "But I can't stop hopin'. Daddy deserves better than that."
Tears trailed down her cheeks. Before Mason could stick her foot any further in her mouth, Beth trapped her in a fierce hug.
It took Mason a moment to realize that she should move her arms, hug her back. By the time she did, Beth had already pulled away. But there was a smile on her face and a gleam in her eyes that did strange things to Mason's heart.
"Um," she said. "I should probably check on Carl."
"Okay. I'll go check on Daddy."
Mason nodded absently and scurried away before anyone else could hug her.
Her mind was in such a whirl that at first she didn't register that Carl was gone. All she could picture was Beth's smile, her eyes, the quiet touch of her hand…
Then her heart stopped.
There the food sat, abandoned and unorganized, exactly how it had been before Rick pulled her aside. Carl was nowhere to be seen. Rick's words echoed mockingly in her ears.
I trust you.
I trust you.
"Fuck me."
Panic made her head dizzy but she tried to think clearly. She hadn't seen Carl pass by her and Beth's cell. She hadn't heard the sound of the cell door creaking open, which she'd been listening for. So he hadn't gone into the tombs.
At least, not the ones they'd cleared.
Her eyes flickered to the other barred door, the one leading to tunnels they hadn't yet explored.
"Fuck me," she said again and grabbed her fire iron.
~m~
These tunnels were just as dark as the ones before. She wished she'd thought to grab a flashlight but she was pretty sure Rick's group had taken them all, anyway.
"Carl?" she whispered. Part of her strained to hear him in the claustrophobic cavern. The other part remained hyper vigilant for the sound of walkers.
Suddenly from a few yards ahead came a muffled growl. Mason raised her fire iron in a baseball stance and quickened her pace. The growl came again, followed by a wet shuffling sound.
"Carl?"
A new growl joined the first, overlapping one another. Mason started to run. From the sound of it, a corner was just ahead…
"Carl!"
Just as she turned the corner, something popped. Mason gasped, recognizing the telltale sound of a silencer.
A light flashed in her face, blinding her. Something growled. Something else hit the floor.
"Mason?"
Blinking against the glare, Mason's eyes landed on Carl a few feet away, with a walker at his feet and another limping toward him.
"Bloody fucking hell."
She strode toward them. Before Carl or the walker could react, she was there, and the poker swung sure and clean through the walker's head.
There was a brief moment of silence, in which Mason checked to make sure there were no more unwelcome visitors. Then she turned a black glare on Carl.
"You're a little fucker, you know that?"
Carl glared back. "I'm just trying to help," he said.
"Oh. Okay, yeah, I see it now. You're trying to help the walkers. That's sweet of you, kid, but really you're no more than a mouthful."
"I could've taken them on my own. You didn't have to come looking for me."
"Look, it's your own business if you want to get chomped by some flesh-eater, but you do realize that your mom is pregnant, right? Like, ultra pregnant? And that your dad has a horrendously full plate as it is?"
Carl rolled his eyes. "That's why I got this."
He held out a black gym bag and unzipped it. Mason's eyes widened. The bag was filled to the brim with gauze and alcohol swabs and hydrogen peroxide. Carl's expression turned smug.
"Raided the infirmary," he said. "Hershel needs it, and Dad's busy with those prisoners so I got it myself."
Mason nodded, trying to think of something else to say, something else to yell about. But as reckless as he might have been, she couldn't deny the kid was right.
She groaned. "Your mom's going to fucking kill me…"
"No, she won't," Carl said. "This was the right thing to do."
"Uh huh."
"C'mon, we need to get back."
"Okay, but…seriously. You owe me big time. Like, the very last cheesecake on Earth is mine kind of big time, I don't care if you have to fight a pack of ninjas to get it."
Carl grinned. "Deal."
When they got back to the cell block there was still no sign of Rick and the others. Mason sighed inwardly and tried to think of something else, but what else was there to think of but Hershel, and the fact that Lori was likely going to punch her in the throat for letting Carl run off?
Everyone eyed them curiously as they leaned into Hershel's cell. Glenn frowned.
"I thought you two were organizing the food."
"We got something better," Carl said and handed Carol the bag.
She opened it and gasped. "Oh my god."
"Where did you get this?" Lori demanded.
"From the infirmary."
"You went by yourself?"
"Well, Mason followed me but it wasn't a big deal. We took down two walkers."
Mason fidgeted as Lori's eyes flicked to her.
"Do you see this?" she finally said, motioning to Hershel. "This was with the whole group."
"We needed supplies, so I got them," Carl said.
"And I appreciate that, but-"
"Then get off my back!"
"Carl!" Beth said. "She's your mother, you can't talk to her like that."
Carl fell silent, glaring at the floor. Lori reached for him.
"Look, I think it's great that you want to hel-"
Before she could finish, Carl stormed off. Lori drew back, blinking the hurt from her eyes. Then she looked at Mason.
"What the hell were you thinking?" she hissed. "He's a boy. He shouldn't be traipsing around in the dark, looking for walkers."
"You're right, Lori, I'm sor-"
"Don't you dare say you're sorry. I don't want to hear it."
"Lori…" Glenn started, but Mason shook her head.
"No, she's right. I'll, um…just step out."
Awkwardly she backed out of the cell.
Carl was sitting by the food with a sullen expression. She considered joining him but she couldn't think of anything to say, so she leaned against the wall and tried not to think at all.
"Mason?"
Reluctantly she opened her eyes. Carol stood before her, her eyes uncertain but her lips pressed into a determined line.
"Come outside with me," she said. "I need your help with something."
Mason frowned and glanced at Carl. "I should probably stay here…"
"Glenn will keep an eye on things. This won't take long."
"Um. Okay."
She got to her feet and followed Carol outside. When they got to the inner gate, Mason raised an eyebrow.
"So what's up?"
Carol sighed. "I need a walker."
Mason was silent for a moment.
"Well…" she finally said, "…there's plenty of them…"
"I need a female," Carol continued.
"What… Why?"
"Lori's overdue. She had Carl by C-section and she's probably gonna have to have this one the same way." She sighed again. "Hershel had a little bit of experience with this kind of thing, but he's not gonna be able to do it anymore."
Mason narrowed her eyes. "He's not dead yet."
"But we need to be prepared for the worst."
"So…you need this walker for practice."
"I need experience."
Carol waited while Mason processed this in silence. The thought itself was stomach-churning, but Mason couldn't help admire her for thinking of it in the first place. It was something Gina would have done…
She smiled darkly. "Well. We have plenty of cadavers."
"My thoughts exactly."
Then Carol smiled, too, a real Good Housekeeping kind of smile, and Mason almost laughed. She was starting to like this woman.
A cluster of walkers had gathered along the outer fence. She studied Carol's face as they walked past each of them, so she saw the slight tightening of her eyes before she stopped and pointed.
"That one."
The walker looked like she had been young when she died. Maybe twenty, no older than Mason herself. Her yellow dress was dull and splattered with stains. She could have been one of Gina's college buddies…
She shook the thought away. "Okay," she said, and raised the poker.
Carol touched her arm. "No. I'll do it. You distract them so I can get the body."
"Whatever you want, boss."
Mason jogged back the way they had come, trailing the fire iron across the fence while Carol took care of her walker. The others followed her, faces pressed to the chain link in grotesque snarls. When they were far enough away, Mason dispatched them one by one.
By the time she returned, Carol had dragged the body through the hole in the fence and was tying up the wires again. Mason hefted the walker into her arms and they made their way back to the yard.
"You shouldn't take it too personal," Carol said. "That thing with Lori. I think she just…has a lot of regrets."
Mason looked at her curiously but she didn't press the issue. A few more steps and then Carol stopped.
"I'll do it here," she said.
Mason laid the body on the ground. Carol pulled a wad of dark leather from her belt and opened it. The sun glinted off the blade of a shiny scalpel.
"Um…" Mason said. "Do you need any help?"
"No, at this point it's just a matter of perfecting the procedure. You go check on Beth."
Mason prickled uncomfortably. Check on Beth? Why just Beth? Beth wasn't her priority. She wasn't babysitting Beth.
Carol laid a hand on her arm, jolting her from her thoughts. "Thank you for your help." She smiled again, but this one was sweeter.
"Of course," Mason mumbled. "No problem."
Carol turned back to her cadaver and Mason scurried back inside.
She noticed the change in atmosphere immediately when she entered the cell block, the excited murmuring coming from Hershel's cell. Her heart leapt into her throat and sat there, poised on the edge of hope and fear. She hurried to the cell.
Everyone was gathered inside. Carl had returned, and he gave her a wide smile as she approached.
"Hershel's awake," he said.
Her knees felt watery. "He is?" she breathed, too quiet for anyone to hear. Cautiously she leaned around Glenn for a better look.
Maggie and Beth were crouched at Hershel's bedside, crying and holding each other. Hershel didn't say anything, his face drawn with exhaustion, but he watched them with his gentle, loving eyes and it was enough.
Mason smiled. Her throat felt tight, but a weight was gone from her lungs. She breathed a fuller breath than she had since Hershel's first scream.
"What's going on?"
Everyone turned. Rick stood by the cell door, spattered with blood. Daryl and T-Dog hovered further back. At the sight of all three of them, still fully intact, her lungs shed more weight.
"Hershel woke up," Carl said.
Rick looked at Hershel for the first time. His whole expression changed. The despair vanished, the distance vanished. His eyes looked wider, softer with disbelief.
Slowly he edged past everyone else to kneel next to Hershel, and that look never left his face. For the first time Beth glanced over at Mason, grinning ear to ear, tears glistening on her cheeks.
The smile froze on Mason's face. Her stomach flipped over. Suddenly she was very aware of every body in the room, the heat of their combined heartbeats. Trying to be subtle about it, she backed out of the cell.
Get a grip, she thought as she leaned against the wall. Get a goddamn fucking grip.
But she couldn't seem to listen to her own advice. And she was pretty sure she was fucked either way.
Because she could feel herself slipping. She could feel the walls she'd put so much time and determination into crumbling. Unconsciously, she had betrayed herself.
You couldn't care for people in this world. That lesson had been driven home, more so than anything else. More than she knew to aim for a walker's head, more than she knew to avoid strange men on the road, more than she knew waking up every morning was both a blessing and a liability, she knew this.
Caring for people…loving them…
That was the real killer.
You don't care about these people, she told herself. You just fucking met them.
But it wasn't the whole truth. She was very good at denying things until they met her at the surface.
"Mason."
She jumped, startled to see that Rick had left the cell and was watching her. She wondered what he saw on her face.
"Oh, hey. How'd it go with the prisoners?"
"You were right," he said simply. He didn't sound surprised.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Two of them will live in the cell block next to us."
She didn't ask what had happened to the other three.
"Thank you," Rick said.
"For what?"
"For keeping them safe."
Mason shook her head. "No, I… Carl-"
"Yeah, I know what happened," Rick said. "Lori told me you went after him. Helped him take down two walkers."
"I shouldn't have let him go at all."
"Hey."
Rick laid a hand on her shoulder. He caught her gaze and held it. "You went after him," he said. "You didn't have to do that."
She didn't know what to say, so she kept her mouth shut.
After a long pause, Rick said, "You can stay. If you want to."
This time she didn't try to hide her reaction. She gaped at him, her heart pounding so hard in her chest she was sure it would burst right through.
She had to tell him no. She needed to tell him no.
She hated the part of her that wanted to tell him yes.
When she still hadn't said anything, Rick patted her shoulder. "Think about it," he said. Then he headed for the catwalk, leaving her alone against the wall.