The midnight moon smiled upon Jon, pale and gentle; it soothed his aching bones. A throbbing heat scorched Jon's muscles. Hours upon hours of tireless butchering left Jon panting and gasping, atop a bed of rot-soaked grass. The rot clung to him, to his clothes and to his skin. Pungent and putrid, it loitered in the humid, muggy air. Revolting beyond description, it festered in the back of his throat. But it was all mute when compared to the gentle embrace of Ghost's, matted, filthy fur between Jon's fingers. Ghost's enormous, heavy head lay on Jon's chest. His all-so-familiar red eyes gazed upon Jon with a tender, homely, silent love.
"Is it truly you, my friend? Or has madness finally claimed me?"
Ghost nuzzled Jon's cheek, and although Ghost smeared yet more warm and sticky grime over his skin, Jon laughed. Ghost licked Jon's face with his fat, wet tongue. Unbridled love coursed through Jon's chest. Under the pale light of the moon, Jon got a good look at Ghost's face. Despite being covered in brown rot, it was all the same. Except for one detail. A long, winding, jagged scar, visible even beneath the rot, ran down Ghost's face. Starting from beside his right eye, continuing across his snout and finishing at the left-side corner of his mouth, the scar was old; too old. So old that Jon should have remembered it. More betrayal, Jon knew. Jon swallowed the rage he so desperately wanted to feel and pressed his forehead against Ghost's.
"You fought valiantly, didn't you, my friend?"
Ghost shut his eyes and a strange sadness swept over Jon.
"I'm sorry their fear robbed you of your life but do not fret, my friend. For this life, this second life, I believe is full of treasures just waiting to be found. It is a gift if a cruel one."
Ghost whimpered. Ghost had never whimpered, not once, not ever. Jon's eyes welled with tears, tears that he did not wipe away, for they washed the rot from his face. Jon grit his teeth and pushed through the searing, scorching pain of sitting to throw his arms around Ghost's neck.
As they hugged, Jon lifted his face from Ghost's fur and was reintroduced to the gruesome scene that had once been the camp. A carpet of mangled, rotting bodies lay everywhere seeping brown and black blood into the ground. Tall mounds – as tall as three men – of the dead sat beyond the front defensive row of cars, rotting and festering. Smaller piles of corpses were built up around the back row of jeeps as well as the RV. Frozen and still, rotting hands reached for the jeeps. Among the rot, the twisted and malformed faces of Jon's allies stared at him. The fear and terror of their final, dying moments were plastered among what little features remained.
A dull guilt gripped Jon's stomach as he – so full of joy – watched his allies, dead and alive, wallow in their anguish.
Glenn, who too was covered head to toe in rot, sat on the ground against the RV clutching his knees to his chest. Wide and frightened, his eyes scanned back and forth as he kept a tight grip on a rot-covered knife. Daryl patrolled the rows of cars carrying a pick axe. One by one, he brought the pick axe down on the heads of the fallen dead. Beneath his mask of rot, a mask of stone had formed over his rugged features. T-Dog knelt by the jeeps, cradling Jacqui's malformed corpse, weeping silently. A dangerous thing to do, Jon knew. Her corpse could reanimate at any moment. But, as Jacqui lacked the muscles to move her jaw or arms, Jon saw no harm in letting the man grieve.
Andrea, on hands and knees, dug through the tall mounds of dead, pulling bodies from the pile. Between loud sobs, she hoarsely croaked her sister's name. That, without a doubt, was far more dangerous, Jon knew. But as he lacked the strength to sit on his own, let alone stand, Jon could only watch as sadness festered.
Atop the RV, Dale sat free of rot par a light splattering. He attended to Morales, gently trying to coax the catatonic man back into reality. Despite his efforts, Morales did little but lie on his back and stare at the stars.
Shane sat far away from everyone else on the log stool once used to fold and sort clothes. He stared at Jon wrathfully, unashamedly so, from behind his mask of rot as he stroked his automatic rifle. A facade. An empty threat. Fear resided plainly behind little more than boyish wrath. Jon had seen the true gaze of blood lust many times before. It pierced the soul. Shane's gaze was blunted.
Rick was sitting beside Glenn. He had a walkie raised to his rot-covered mouth. He stared at the moon as he spoke into it with a wispy, tired voice.
"Morgan, I don't know if you're out there. I don't know if you can hear me. Maybe you're listenin' right now. I hope so. I found others – my family. If you can believe it."
Static crackled from the walkie.
"My wife and son, they're alive. I wanted you to know that," Rick said.
More static crackled.
"There's something else you need to know. Atlanta isn't what we thought. It's not what they promised. The city is…" The words caught in Rick's throat. "Do not enter the city. It belongs to the dead now."
Static crackled.
"We were camped out at a rock quarry outside of Atlanta. Don't try and find us. Walkers are migrating from the city. We fought them. We won. But at a cost too… too high. Head into the country, far into the country, as far as you can. Maybe we'll meet. Maybe we won't. I hope you do, for our sakes and our children's."
Static crackled and Rick put down the walkie. He stood and turned to face the RV.
"Dale, help me get her." Rick nodded to Andrea.
Dale looked up from Morales to Andrea. His face darkened. He nodded. Hurriedly, he clambered down the RV's ladder and followed Rick to Andrea. On his way, he passed Ghost and although an utterly baffled look crossed his face, he didn't stop. Rick, on the other hand, didn't so much as glance at Ghost.
Dale and Rick seized Andrea by the arms and yanked her away from the mounds of corpses.
"No!" She screamed.
Andrea wrung her arm free of Dale's grasp and kicked Rick's shin. Rick shouted and his grip faltered for just long enough to allow Andrea to pull a gun on both of them. Dale went pale white and took a step back, while Rick just stared with tired eyes.
"It's empty," he said.
"Yeah?! Try me then!"
Andrea pointed the gun at Rick's face.
"Leave her be," Jon croaked.
Rick looked back at Jon like he hadn't even known he was there.
"I-It's okay, I'll stay with her. I'll make sure she doesn't get bit," Dale said.
"Okay." Rick raised his hands to Andrea, slowly. "Okay."
Rick backed up and returned to the RV. Andrea dropped back to her knees and resumed her searching. Dale, with strained effort, knelt beside her.
"She's gone, Andrea. You have to let her go," he said gently.
Andrea dug her hands into the pile.
"You ain't gonna find nothin'!" Daryl buried his pick axe into a head. "Ain't nothin' left to find!" Daryl splattered another head.
With Ghost's support, Jon got to his feet but before he could take a single step, Daryl pointed at him.
"The hell is that thing anyway?! A goddamn wolf?!"
Ghost bared his fangs in a silent snarl.
"A direwolf," Jon said.
"What the fuck is a direwolf?!"
"Oh, who the hell cares, man?!" T-Dog shouted. "It saved our lives. I ain't about to start question' shit."
The group fell into silence, which to Jon, suggested agreement.
"He's my friend. That's all that matters," Jon said.
"Are you hurt? Are you bit?" Rick asked.
Jon shook his head.
"My mail kept me safe."
"How about the rest of y'all?" Rick asked.
Everyone except Andrea and Morales answered. None were bit.
Daryl approached T-Dog with his pick axe. He loomed over T-Dog but T-Dog kept his gaze on Jacqui.
"She's dead," Daryl said.
"I see that," T-Dog said.
"Give her up. She's a timebomb."
"Get your cracker-ass away from me, man."
"Don't hamstring us, man!"
Daryl made a grab for Jacqui. T-Dog flew to his feet and shoved Daryl back.
"I ain't playin' around, man!" T-Dog yelled.
"You think I am?!" Daryl yelled back.
Daryl raised his pick axe but stopped as Rick shouted.
"Enough! Let the man say his goddamn goodbyes in peace. We don't have time to deal with the dead, anyhow."
"You gonna let these people turn? You gonna let those kids turn?"
Daryl pointed his pick axe at the half-devoured corpses of Morales's children.
"We gotta focus on gettin' out of here and findin' someplace safe," Rick said.
"You do maybe. I'm goin' after Merle."
"Brother, no."
Rick reached for Daryl but Daryl knocked his hand away.
"Don't you say no to me! You'd do the same! If that was Lori and Carl out there, you'd do the same! Tell me you wouldn't! Go on, tell me!"
"I would. I understand what you're feelin'. Really, I do. But what I'd want to do and what I'd need to hear ain't the same, brother. Please, hear me. I want to believe Merle's alive. I do. But most likely, he ain't. That's the hard truth of it. And you gotta hear it. Don't go killin' yourself out there. You're worth more than that."
Rick reached for Daryl again and got a hold of his shoulders. Daryl's arms fell to his sides. He dropped his pick axe. His lips trembled. His eyes watered. A strange mix of rage and grief clashed on his face. Rage lost the battle almost immediately.
"You promised… You promised we'd go back…"
"I know. I'm sorry."
"W-We need to bury them," Glenn said.
Shakily, he stood.
"Our people. We need to bury them."
Jon mustered the strength to leave Ghost's aid and approached Glenn.
"We can't. It'd take days to find them all," Jon said gently.
Tears welled in Glenn's eyes and a scowl flared.
"They were good people! Fuck, some of them are kids! They deserve better than this!"
"I know, but we have to keep ourselves safe first and this place isn't safe enough to remain at."
"We all deserved better than this!" Daryl shouted. "But it don't change that we got what we got! Buryin' ain't a privilege we got no more!"
Glenn buried his face in his hands and slumped back down against the RV.
"Calm," Rick touched Daryl's shoulder. "All of y'all. We're all scared. Let's think about our next move. I say we head to the CDC. If anything's still up and runnin', it'll be."
"CDC?" Jon asked.
"Centre of Disease Control," Rick said. "They'll have food, shelter and defences. Most likely they're running some sort of camp from there."
"No."
The squelching of boots on rot-soaked grass crossed the camp. Shane marched over to them, cradling his automatic rifle. Ghost bared his teeth at him silently and got in front of Jon.
"We're headin' to Fort Benning. It's closer, only half a day's travel and better defended. Plus-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Morales screamed.
Now standing, Morales glared down at Shane from the RV.
"You don't get to say shit! We should have left like Rick said to begin with! But no! You made us stay and got everyone killed!"
Morales hopped down from the RV and the two men marched to meet each other.
"I didn't make you do shit!"
"Don't you dare try and run from this! It's your fault! All of it!"
"Who was the one who insisted on going to the city with Glenn?! Huh?! If he'd been on his own none of that shit with the truck would have ever happened and y'all wouldn't have led the hoard here! It's just as much your fault that your kids are dead!"
Morales launched himself at Shane but Jon intercepted. Jon braced as Morales flew into his arms, expecting to be hit with a massive weight. But instead, Jon pushed Morales over as if he weighed nothing at all. Morales cried out and began to struggle to his feet, which is when Jon spotted the shredded fabric on the back of his shirt.
"He's bitten…"
Everyone backed away three or so steps, except Daryl who rushed Morales and wrestled off his shirt. Morales struggled and flailed but the shirt came off regardless. Covering his back were countless bite marks, all weeping brown, rotten blood. Morales's shoulders slumped and he let out a defeated, tired cry.
"I had to shield them… I had to keep them safe… My mija… My mijo…"
"I say we put a pick axe in his head," Daryl said.
"Is that what you'd want. If it were you?" Shane asked.
"Yeah and I'd thank you while you did it."
"It pains me to agree, but it's what's best for him and us," Jon said.
Ghost got in between Jon and Morales.
"Morales ain't some monster or a rabid dog," Rick said.
"Will be soon," T-Dog said.
"No, he's sick. He's sick," Rick said. "If we start down that road where do we draw the line?"
"The line's pretty clear," Daryl said.
"What if we can get him help? The CDC might have a cure or-"
"A cure? Really, man?" Shane said.
"You know what? Morales was right! You've lost the right to speak!" Rick yelled.
"We gotta take the chance!" Glenn said. "Even if it's slim!"
"Christ…" Shane muttered.
Suddenly, the crunching of gravel cut through the air. Everyone froze and spun around to face the gravel road. Ghost stepped forward, fangs bared. Daryl snatched up his crossbow. Shane raised his automatic rifle. Jon drew Longclaw. A dark silhouette crept along the gravel road.
"Rick?!" Lori yelled.
"Lori?!"
The silhouette sharpened into Lori. She approached, rifle raised with Carl, Carol and Sophia in tow. As her eyes found Rick's she lowered the rifle and rushed to them.
"You're alive!"
Lori flung her arms around Rick and Rick pulled her close.
"Where's everyone else?" Carl asked.
"Dead," Daryl said.
"Oh… okay."
Carl looked around at the scattered corpses with worn and weathered eyes. Eyes that widened upon seeing Ghost. He took a step back.
"Is that a wolf?!"
"Wha- Holy shit!" Lori screamed and got behind Rick.
Ghost gave them a silent snarl and Carl backed up a few steps. Sophia screamed and hid behind a bewildered Carol.
"Ghost. Enough," Jon said.
Ghost dropped his silent snarl and returned to Jon's side.
"He's my friend," Jon said.
"It saved our lives," Rick said.
Cautiously, Lori stepped out from behind Rick. She guided Carl into her arms and nodded.
"R-Right, thank you… uh… Ghost, was it?"
Ghost stared at her, unblinking.
"What… what were you all yelling about?" Carol asked.
"This prick got himself bit," Daryl gestured to Morales with his crossbow.
Silence lingered over the group.
"We're plannin' our next move too," Rick said. "The CDC seems best. If the government's gonna keep anything runnin' it'll be that."
Lori nodded.
"Right… but isn't the CDC towards the city? We'll be heading right towards the hoards."
"That's why Fort Benning's our best bet," Shane said
A scowl tightened on Lori's face and she pulled Carl to her tightly.
"You don't get to talk. If you had any decency you would have died with the rest of them," Lori said.
Shane – stood tall and broad – deflated. He said nothing and crossed the camp to return to his log stool.
"So we're all onboard?" Rick asked.
Jon and the others nodded.
"Where's Ed?" Carol asked.
"There." Daryl pointed to the jeeps with his crossbow.
Ed's corpse was sitting up against a jeep, surrounded by dead walkers. A gaping hole had been torn out of his stomach. His guts, half-eaten, lay rotting in his lap. Chunks of flesh had been rended from his arms, thighs and torso, leaving his bones exposed. Terror and agony were frozen on his half-devoured face.
Carol and Sophia looked at the grizzly scene with cold, vacant stares. Gently, Carol guided Sophia to Lori before taking up Daryl's pick axe and approaching Ed. She stood over him, tears welling in her eyes, hands gripped tightly around the pick axe's handle. She raised the pick axe above her head and plunged it into Ed's. It punctured and cracked his skull, ushering a spray of black blood. Again and again, Carol plunged the pick axe into Ed's head – even as rot sprayed over her front – until it was little more than a mashed pulp. Sophia watched every moment of it. Lori tried to shield her eyes but she wriggled free to stare fiercely at her dead father. Eventually, Carol returned. She dropped the pick axe to the rot-soaked grass and picked up Sophia.
"We need to gather up supplies. The CDC's a day's trip the safe way, around the city," Carol said.
"Okay, but stay in pairs y'all and be quick," Rick said. "We don't know when more are gonna show up but it could be any moment now."
Everyone, except Morales and Shane, shared a nod and headed off in pairs to scavenge the camp. As Jon headed over to Dale and Andrea, Rick shouted.
"Dale!"
Dale raised a hand to Rick and mouthed, 'just a minute,'. Rick grimaced but nodded all the same.
Andrea was still digging through the mound of bodies, elbow-deep in rot. Dale remained by her side with stooped shoulders. His rifle and Andrea's pistol sat between them on the ground, benign but within reach. Dale removed his bucket hat and hunched forward so his eyes were on the same level as Andrea's.
"Andrea, have I ever mentioned how I lost my wife?"
Andrea plunged her arms into the mound, took hold of a body and stood to pull it out. Dale stood with her.
"Cancer took her. But before it did, I dragged her across the country to every doctor, to every test, to every crack job with a promise. And after all the meetings and all the surgeries and all the prayers, she was ready. She was ready after the first and after the second and third… She'd accepted it, you know?"
Andrea wrenched the body free of the mound. She dropped to her knees and wiped the grime off of its face. A man stared back up at her. Dale knelt beside her as she plunged her trembling arms back into the mound.
"But I never could and I spent the last few years so angry. I felt so cheated."
Andrea froze.
"Since she passed, you, your sister and all these folks were the first I cared anything for."
Andrea pulled her arms from the mound.
"Today was her birthday, right?" Dale asked.
Andrea nodded. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, pink envelope.
"Her birthday was always like a week-long affair," Andrea whispered. "But I somehow always missed it. Every time. I had college, jobs, partners; I always had an excuse to not be at a kid's party. She'd call all excited, still, every time and I'd say, 'this year, for sure, I'll make it.' Every time. I meant it too but I never made it past that phone call."
"Things are hard enough as it is, without adding guilt into the mix, huh?" Dale said.
Andrea's face scrunched up and tears rolled down her rot-covered face. She opened the pink envelope and inside was a small pendant, a necklace with a finely crafted gold chain and a mermaid's tail carved into plastic at the end. It would have been fine enough for even the most pompous of high-born ladies, Jon knew. Andrea delicately picked up the necklace and inserted it into the mound of bodies. Dale offered her his hand. She accepted and the two of them got to their feet, passed Jon and rejoined Rick by the RV.
"How many people can we fit in the RV?" Rick asked.
"Safely, six or so. If we squeezed it?" Dale looked around at everyone as they scavenged. "Ten, probably."
Rick grimaced and looked at the jeeps.
"Can you help me get a few of them up and runnin'?"
Dale looked at Andrea. Andrea patted his hand and nodded.
"Sure, I can try. Let's just hope they aren't clogged up with guts."
Five jeeps had been tried and five jeeps had failed to start but after several failed attempts, the engine of the sixth and final jeep roared to life. Dale sighed and rested on his laurels, while Rick stared at the jeep with hard eyes.
"How much fuel?" He asked.
Dale got up and hopped inside the jeep.
"Half a tank."
Only then, did Rick smile. He turned back to face the group as they worked together to pack supplies into the RV.
Jon carried a crate full of metal cylinders that supposedly contained food. Ghost carried a big, plastic jug of water in his mouth. The sight awarded Jon and Ghost bewildered, disbelieving stares. Jon was used to such a reaction, even his own people were taken aback by Ghost at first. But the shock on display by these people seemed beyond even that. They looked at Ghost as if a grumkin were following at Jon's heel.
"Alright, listen up!" Rick shouted. "Children and women get priority in the RV. We can fit about ten or so of y'all inside. Those left over will use this jeep. Y'all will follow behind the RV. Make sure to keep close, we don't want anyone gettin' lost."
Jon placed his crate of cans on the step of the RV. Glenn picked it up and carried it inside. When he returned for Ghost's water jug, he met Jon's eyes and nodded past him. Jon followed the nod to T-Dog. He was still sitting with Jacqui's corpse in his arm. In a trembling hand, he held a knife to her temple, as he had for quite a while. Jon nodded and he and Glenn left the RV to approach him. Andrea took up Glenn's position to load the last of the supplies.
Jon and Glenn gingerly approached T-Dog.
"T-Dog," Glenn said, "It's time, man."
T-Dog glared at them.
"We should be buryin' them," T-Dog said.
"I know, but we can't," Glenn said.
"We haven't the time," Jon said.
"Like hell, we don't! Look around! The hoard's dead!"
Jon crouched and levelled his eyes with T-Dog's.
"But another could be on its way. Doesn't it stand to reason that the commotion of our fight carried down to the city?"
T-Dog looked away and chewed his lip.
"Y-Yeah, I guess."
His hand holding the knife trembled.
"If you can't, we can," Jon said.
"No! I can, I can… just… give me a second."
T-Dog lowered the knife. He pulled Jacqui close to him and buried his face in her rot-soaked, short, curly hair. He kissed her head, took a deep breath and buried the knife into her temple. Black blood oozed from the wound down her face's rended flesh. T-Dog lay her down as if she were made of glass, kissed her forehead, then got to his feet, walked past Jon and Glenn and approached Ghost. He knelt before Ghost and reached to pat his head. To Jon's surprise, Ghost allowed him.
"Thank you. If you hadn't saved my life, I couldn't have been here to stop her from becomin' one of them."
Ghost's height was such that his and T-Dog's eyes were level as T-Dog knelt. Ghost's red eyes gazed into T-Dog's puffy eyes. A strange sorrow filled Jon that only lasted until their gaze broke. T-Dog returned to his feet and Ghost joined Jon's side. Jon gripped T-Dog's shoulder.
"She had a warrior's spirit. Go on living for the sake of her memory," Jon said.
T-Dog's face hardened and he nodded.
"Right."
He patted Jon's shoulder and returned back to the group.
"So, uh…" Glenn clutched the back of his head. "What kind of dog is that?"
"A direwolf, like I said."
"Oh, yeah, okay but really… did you like, work at a zoo or something?"
"I don't know what a zoo is."
Glenn looked at Ghost, then back to Jon, then back to Ghost. Jon grinned.
"In a world where the dead walk amongst the living, is it so hard to believe that I'm from another world?"
"I… uh… I guess not."
Glenn smirked and together, he and Jon laughed. Whether Glenn had meant it in jest or truth, Jon cared not. The laughter and merry smiles it brought about were pleasant enough for him. But merry smiles and jolly laughter were fleeting amongst the rot.
"Rick?! Anyone?! It's Morales!" Carol came running out of the RV.
Rick, Jon, Glenn and just about everyone ran to Carol. Only Shane remained on his log stool.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Rick asked.
"He turned?" Daryl clutched his crossbow.
"No. He's in a real bad way though. Sweating, hyperventilating, his skin is hot like a stove and his eyes… they're turning yellow."
Lori took Carol's hands.
"Get him some water, okay? And a towel. Soak it and put it on his forehead."
Carol nodded and hurried back inside the RV.
"Should just put him out of his misery, man," Daryl said.
"We don't kill the living," Rick said.
"Kill him now, wait for him to die. Same shit."
"Not if there's a cure," Rick said.
"There ain't."
Daryl spat and made his way over to the jeep. Lori looked at Rick and he nodded.
"Let's get goin'. Everyone get your things in order and get inside. Remember, women and children first."
Carl and Sophia hurried into the RV, followed by Lori. Andrea, after a nudge from Dale, reluctantly followed her. Dale followed Andrea, followed by T-Dog, then Glenn, then Rick. Which left Jon, Ghost, Daryl and Shane the jeep. Shane, without uttering a word, crossed the camp and got inside the jeep at the steering wheel. Daryl hopped in the other front seat and Jon got in the back. Ghost stood outside the jeep, gazing at it with a cocked head. Jon patted the seat beside him.
"Ghost, come on, up."
Ghost leapt into the jeep and the whole thing shook as he landed upon the seat. Jon reached over him and shut the door. Ghost took up both the side and middle seat, so Jon scooted over to the other side but even then Ghost barely fit on the seats.
"Pop the handle behind your seat," Daryl said.
Jon reached back and sure enough, there was a metal handle. He pulled on it and the seat Ghost was on collapsed back into the jeep's back compartment. Ghost spread out over the increased room. Daryl looked over his seat's shoulder at him and Ghost bared his fangs. Daryl huffed.
"Some fuckin' pet, man."
"Not a pet. A friend."
"Whatever."
The RV's engine roared to life. Two beams of light shone from its front as it trundled down the gravel path. Shane brought the jeep to life and drove them after it. As the jeep began to move, Ghost's head shot up and he stared out the window, wide-eyed. Fear struck Jon but disappeared at once as he placed his hand on Ghost's head.
Whoever America's king must have been, he must have truly been great. For miles and miles, perfect, paved roads stretched on and on. Houses, large and bountiful lined the streets which suffered from but minor disrepair, even while the world died. The resources, manpower and coordination to build what Daryl called, 'the suburbs,' would have made Bran the Builder green with envy. And, if Daryl were to be believed, it was all done not for the families of nobles, but for the common people. Jon couldn't fathom it; a king who would share such wealth with the common people. Although, when he had asked Daryl of this great king, Daryl only scowled and refused to look at him. Shane said naught of the king either, even when prompted. It all left a sour taste in Jon's mouth. Mayhaps the roads were paved long ago, long before the last king was born. Mayhaps the last king was truly no great man at all. Whatever kind of man the last king was, it was in the end, mere words in a world of walking dead. And words were wind.
As night gave way to twilight, Jon got a proper look at the suburbs. As bountiful and charitable as they were, something about them unnerved him. It was all the same. Each house had white, wooden walls, a tiled roof, a yard of grass and a white fence. No matter how many corners they rounded or how many streets they traversed, each and every house was the same. There were no markets, no fields, no brothels, no taverns, only street after street of identical rows of houses. They had been driving for hours, Jon knew, but it felt like they had made no progress at all.
Ghost, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself. He had quickly adjusted to the blistering speed of the jeep and had sat up by the window, watching the houses go by and baring his fangs at the wandering dead.
The dead, although numerous, could never hope to catch them. They stumbled out onto the street as the RV and jeep passed them but once they were far enough away, the dead resumed their aimless wandering. All was blissfully calm and mundane. Until Glenn stuck his head out of the RV's window and waved a shirt at them.
"The hell's he doin'?" Daryl asked.
Glenn pointed to the side of the road as the RV pulled over and came to a stop. Shane pulled over too and snatched up his automatic rifle. Daryl grabbed his crossbow. Jon gripped Longclaw's handle. They all rushed out of the jeep and to the RV. The RV's door flew open. A chaotic chorus of yelling erupted. Rick and Glenn scurried out the door, carrying Morales. His eyes were wide and vacant with the grey stare of a blind man. His face was a ghostly white and covered in brown blood and vomit. He thrashed feebly while muttering nonsense. Clumps of hair were missing from his head and the whites of his eyes had turned yellow. Sweat soaked every inch of his clothes.
Rick and Glenn lay him down on the strip of grass that separated the road and the pavement as the rest of the group exited the RV. They kept a fair distance from the dying man. Glenn pulled out a knife and together, he and Rick cut off Morales's shirt. Carol and Lori rushed out of the RV with a water jug and a collection of towels. However, as the two women raced towards Morales, Daryl stepped into their path.
"Naw, hold on! Enough of this shit. Look at him. You ain't doin' him no kindness!"
"Daryl, move," Rick said through grit teeth.
"No, man! I won't!"
"Look, all we gotta do is-"
"Naw, brother. He's right," Shane said.
"And who said you could speak, huh?!" Rick shouted.
"No, Rick. They're right," Glenn said.
Rick whipped around and looked at Glenn with sad eyes. His sad eyes quickly hardened and were replaced with a scowl.
"Y'all are losin' yourselves! This ain't a dog! This is a man we're talking about! A man!"
"I agree with Daryl," Andrea said.
"It's just cruel, keeping him alive," Dale said.
"Should have done it before and left him with his kids," T-Dog said.
Carol put down her jug and towels. Lori did the same and took Rick's hand into hers
"Honey, I get it's hard to accept but-"
Rick snatched his hand away and looked at them all with disgust. Fear plagued him, Jon knew, but just as Jon was about to speak, Carl cried out.
"Dad!"
Carl approached his father, wearing Rick's wide-brimmed hat. The light of the rising sun gleamed off the hat's golden star and speckled in the tears rolling down his freckled, chubby cheeks.
"Please, dad… he's suffering… we have to…"
Rick's hardened gaze and disgusted scowl faltered and crumbled in place of welling eyes and scrunched-up features. He knelt before Carl and hugged him.
"O-Okay. I'm… I was wrong. I see that now," Rick whispered.
"You hear that?" Morales said.
Everyone went quiet. Only the distant gurgling of the dead could be heard as it echoed through the streets.
"That's the sound of God laughing while you make plans."
Rick let go of Carl and rose to his feet. Jon approached him, unsheathed his dagger and thrust it into Rick's hand. It was important that Rick did this himself, Jon knew.
"Hard truths often require hard actions. But if we are to survive in this world, we must do what is required of us," Jon said.
Rick nodded and took the dagger from Jon. He knelt beside Morales. He wiped his hand down his own face, over his eyes and over his mouth.
"Morales," Rick whispered, "I hope, if God allows, that this brings you peace."
Rick gently pushed the dagger's blade into Morales's temple. Morales let out a wheezed gasp, his eyes widened and then he went limp as he was consumed by the cold embrace. Sophia began to cry and buried her face into Carol's hip while Carl stared at the body until he was dragged away by Lori. The others returned to the RV, leaving only Jon, Rick, Shane, Daryl and Ghost by Morales's body. Shane took a step towards Rick.
"If you're gonna lead these people, you better get your head in the game or they're all gonna die," Shane said.
"Get back in your jeep, brother," Rick muttered.
Shane scowled and turned on his heels for the jeep but froze almost immediately. A hollow crash of steel on stone cut through the air. Jon turned to see Shane pointing his rifle at a walker. The corpse had tripped over several, cylindrical metal containers out the front of the neighbouring house. Rotted garbage spilled from them onto the grass. The corpse eyed Jon with its wide, bloodshot, yellow eyes and reached with flailing arms. Daryl rushed to Shane's side, crossbow raised but before either could fire Ghost streaked past them. He leapt on top of the walker, pinned its arms with his paws and bit down on its neck. Black blood oozed and sprayed. Ghost, in one clean stroke, tore the walker's head from its shoulders and tossed it into the street. Shane lowered his gun.
"Jesus…" Daryl muttered.
He glanced at Jon and lowered his crossbow. Jon offered his hand to Rick.
"It's time to go. It isn't safe."
"Right."
Rick took Jon's hand and Jon helped him to his feet. Rick returned Jon's dagger and hurried back inside the RV.
"Us too," Jon said to Shane and Daryl. "Ghost, come!"
As Jon, Shane and Daryl hurried back to the jeep, Ghost joined Jon's side. All four of them hopped back inside the jeep. The RV's engine roared to life and Shane brought the jeep's to life too and followed the RV down the road towards the rising sun.
By the time they had arrived at the CDC, the rising sun had become the setting sun. On the border between the suburbs and the city, the CDC was as tall and wide as any castle. The huge building seemed to be made of entirely glass with only a thin concrete frame to support it. Beyond its clear walls was nothing but a void of darkness.
A grizzly scene lay frozen around the CDC. The corpses of men dressed in all green shambled about with guns strapped around their necks and shoulders. Several green jeeps sat abandoned before the building. Stone barriers formed a perimeter around the CDC. Hundreds of fallen walkers filled the streets beyond the barriers as a carpet of rot. They lay inside the perimeter too, all the way to the CDC's doors. Steel shutters covered the doors, dented but unbroken. Rot covered all, from the road to the doors and up the side of the building.
The RV and the jeep came to a stop in the street outside the CDC and everyone hurriedly piled out. Quickly, they organised a defensive circle. Jon, Daryl and Shane rushed to join them. Those without weapons gathered in a clump in the centre. Those without guns guarded them, wielding anything from knives to pick axe to wooden bat. While those with guns headed the way forward, their rifle sights trained on the approaching, green-garbed walkers. As Jon joined the inner guard, Longclaw drawn, Shane and Daryl joined the outer guard, automatic rifle and crossbow raised. Ghost shot ahead of them all and tackled a walker to the ground.
"Quickly! Take them down!" Rick shouted.
Rick, Daryl, Shane, Dale and Glenn rushed forward with their rifles and aided Ghost in felling the approaching walkers. Large enough to form a rotting battalion, the small hoard descended on Ghost. But Ghost was too quick. He tore the head from the fallen walker and darted out of the line of fire as Rick and his men unloaded. As they fired rapid volleys into the hoard, more walkers shambled towards them from all directions.
"Tighten around the unarmed!" Jon shouted.
Andrea, T-Dog and Lori obeyed and tightened around the unarmed Carol, Carl and Sophia. They came at the dead with blade, pick and bat, and fell any that approached. Stupidly, Carl got free of Carol's arms and broke past the inner guard, gun in hand. He dodged past a walker but ended up right in the clutches of another. Before he even had time to scream, Ghost flew into the walker's chest and knocked it to the ground. He tore off its head, bared his fangs at Carl and fell the other walker before rushing off towards the main hoard. Jon ran to Carl and dragged him back to Carol with no resistance.
Jon had no time to scold him. The city had been alerted to them and its full force had begun to creep around the corners of the surrounding buildings. But just as they did, Rick and his men dealt with the last of the small hoard. As one, the group rushed towards the shuttered doors of the CDC. The CDC blotted out the setting sun and cast them into a chilling shadow. Rick hammered on the shuttered doors with his fists.
"Hello?! Open the doors! We're survivors!"
There was no response.
"Hello?!"
The full strength of the dead slowly descended on their position.
"Form a defence! Stop their advance!" Jon shouted.
He sheathed Longclaw and drew Needle as he and the others with guns formed a defensive ring and fired into the encroaching hoard. Rick and Shane shouted at each other.
"There's nobody here! Just like I said!"
"Then why are these shutters down?!"
"You led us to nothin'! We should have gone to Fort Benning!"
"Shut up! Just shut up!"
"Rick, this a goddamn dead end!"
Needle clicked. Jon glanced back at Rick and Shane, and just as he was about to yell for their aid, he noticed something strange. Above the shuttered doors was an odd, mechanical device that looked somewhat like an artificial eye. The strange, rectangular thing swivelled to look at Rick and Shane. A lens behind a square of glass honed in on them. Rick looked up at it, shouted and waved his arms.
"Hello?! Let us in! The dead're comin'!"
No response.
"It's probably just automated or somethin'! Come on man, we gotta go, now!"
"We've got children! Please! Show mercy!"
The dead's march swallowed up any escape options.
"Mama!" Sophia cried.
"Dad!" Carl screamed.
Ghost began to snarl, a deep, gravelly snarl that seemed to rumble the very air. And then, a horn louder than should be possible blared from above. A piercing white light flooded Jon's eyes and the shutters flew open.