It was a well-practiced manoeuvre now. Carl and Beth stood guard at the head of the convoy while Sophia and I watched the rear. The kids had pistols with crude suppressors applied to them while we teenagers had hand to hand weapons. They had spent some ammunition teaching Sophia to shoot, to defend herself, and I had declined the training. We didn't have the ammunition and unlike Sophia I could defend myself hand-to-hand. Beth favoured a wood axe for its reach while I had, partly for the irony value, taken up the crowbar. I would never have stooped so low as to bust open a door with a crowbar but against walkers; it was a versatile weapon. You could bury the gooseneck in a skull like an axe, bludgeon with the length of steel or use the chisel to stab. The stabbing part was particularly useful through chain-link fences. If it got stuck, it was long enough for you to hold onto and even if it was wrenched from your hands; the gooseneck hooked it in place.
With we young ones standing watch, the adults were free to have their conversations. It was always the same conversation; where are we going? There had never been a definitive answer. We roamed from town to town and the outskirts of various cities, being driven along by the dead. Roaming herds made every location inhospitable sooner or later and when they formed into hordes… I knew they were discussing that now. We could almost be said to be tracking the migration of the dead and right now, we were boxed in. We could only follow the roads and at the metaphorical crossroads we were at; every road led to danger.
"There."
Sophia was no longer scared witless by the dead but she was still frightened. I liked that. It made her a wary, alert sentry who always got the attention of the nearest adult to deal with the threat. Carl meanwhile… He was well into the double figures for bullets wasted on lone walkers that could have been taken care of with an axe, spade or even a rock. Just to prove that he could kill walkers like the adults. He always gave the same bullshit justifications too. Sometimes I wished we would run out of ammunition just to blunt that boy's ego.
The girl meanwhile reached into her pockets and pulled out some coloured ribbons. She held them in her hands and then began waving them at the approaching walker. She didn't make a sound that might draw more that were out of sight. Instead she performed a little routine that was half-cheerleader, half-traffic controller. We didn't know how they saw things and whether they really were drawn to brighter colours over drab but colour and movement certainly seemed to get their attention. The walker didn't even seem to notice me, focusing entirely on the waving girl who stood her ground even as the snarling monster began to speed up as it neared her; milky eyes fixed on her. Just as it raised its arms was when I struck; kicking it hard in the back of the knee. It instantly folded and hit the road. I didn't let it up; driving the chisel down into its skull. A sharp twist and the point came free which I wiped clean on its sweater. It was a well-practiced action by this point. We made a good team. At least, once I had gotten past the discomfort of using her as bait.
Sophia rummaged through the walker's pants as she always did. She wasn't looking for some unlikely treasure but for their wallet. She found it and took what she needed. She put one hand on the walker and took mine with the other. "Janet. A. Jones… J.J… We release you." She whispered.
Coping with the reality where the dead walked around looking for living flesh to eat was a struggle for everyone and Sophia had developed a belief system that the soul remained trapped in the dead so long as they were walking. When we put them down, we were releasing them so they could go to Heaven. It was an idea she had come up with by herself and she hadn't let anyone know about it for a long time; keeping her prayers to herself. But there were only so many times you could watch her pick through a corpse's pockets and then murmur over them before you got curious.
After keeping his wife and step-son in the barn, I didn't think Hershel was going to be a big fan of this belief but he hadn't said anything negative about it, despite his religiosity. I thought that it did appeal to the others though. It wasn't just fighting for survival; it was doing God's work. I didn't see it that way but I also saw no reason to criticise something that brought Sophia comfort. I squeezed her hand.
Theodore decided to lead a water expedition with Andrea, Glenn and Maggie while Daryl and Rick took the opportunity to go hunting. That left the two old men, the kids and the pregnant lady with Carol as the only fit adult. That would have been laughable once. Not anymore. Now it was standard procedure. Short of a whole pack of walkers, there was nothing we couldn't handle.
I sat on the roof because it was a good vantage point and because my feet hurt after standing still for even a few minutes these days. It was quiet out here and I had long since become accustomed to it, though I still didn't like going amongst the trees. Daryl knew the difference between a deer, opossum and a walker's tread while it all sounded the same to me. I was much happier, or less anxious anyway, when we were in one of the many ghost towns we had visited.
It was a pleasant enough day. Spring was finally here and I was looking forward to a good wash without the threat of hypothermia. Trying to stay warm through the winter had been enough of a challenge without a soak in freezing water. We all needed a good clean; some of us more than others. There were only so many wipe downs with wet wipes before you were just smearing the dirt around but the threat of getting sick was there to stop you pursuing the real thing. Dale had only gotten the flu but it might as well have been the plague for how sick he had become. Roaming about as we did, we had never been able to provide a warm, comfortable environment for him to heal in. It was the same when we had all exchanged the same cold. No one had been looting drug stores for cold medicine and throat lozenges so we had been able to keep ourselves comfortable-ish with those but for the others, it was their first experience of just how dangerous a minor illness could be when you were homeless.
Rick was still seeking his Promised Land and no one had raised the subject of finding an organised refuge somewhere. After Atlanta, no one had faith in anything the government had suggested. My thought was that somewhere there had to be an organised military force. Not along the north-east coast or anywhere along the West. Somewhere less densely populated where they could regroup and consolidate their forces. Maybe that mountain with the big doors or one of those states that grew corn and missile silos. Wherever they were, it was far away from here. Our experiences were that of nine and a half million Georgians; half were dead and down and the other half were dead and walking around. No one liked to talk about that either. We had seen large numbers of walkers which included packs of a few hundred which had to be the vanguard for thousands. Rick believed there was some place safe for us but my thought was always how could it stay safe if it was attacked by hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands of walkers? You just had to imagine a busy city street on a Saturday to picture those teeming masses coming for us.
"You're thinking." Sophia remarked. Again.
"What else am I gonna do?" I replied. Again.
It passed for a joke between us. After living together this long, we had exhausted what little topics there were for conversation from before and now through this there was little to talk about. Sophia had picked up on people's tendencies to brood and would always remark on it to shake them out of it. If anyone else did it, it would have led to snapping and a heated row. When it came from the freckled girl with the big sad eyes… People found it hard to get angry with her. The same with Beth. I however was just the right age to piss off adults no matter what I said which was why I kept quiet. As much as I could.
We sat back to back so we could keep watch. It served two purposes. The first was to keep us both warm and the second was that it reassured her. She was a clingy girl after her experiences and usually that meant being tied to her mother. With her mother increasingly taking care of Lori, I was the one she turned to. Carol considered it a good thing; unlike Lori she never had to worry about her kid wandering off.
The water expedition came back first. Dirty creek water that needed thorough boiling was our staple and it was quite disgusting. It might not have been so bad if I drank coffee which was pretty much the only thing that could disguise the bad taste. The spring water that had originally filled the jugs was long gone.
I knew I was hungry because the first thing I saw when Daryl and Rick returned was that they were empty-handed. Then I saw something that was truly rare around here; a happy Rick. It was creepy to see a positive thought on that grizzled face.
"We found something." He said and refused to explain further.
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"What are you glaring at?"
"Nothing… It's just…" I shook my head in disbelief. "I spent my whole life trying to stay out of prison and now… Now you've brought me to straight to one… Sheriff."
Rick gave me a look, not knowing whether I was joking or serious, but either way not having the patience for it. The others had more immediate concerns; all the walkers they could see outside the fences and inside them. When we saw this many dead, it was an immediate about turn. But not today. This collection of chain-link fences and poured concrete was in Rick's eyes a safe haven.
"You want us to go through that?" Glenn asked the question for all of us.
"We cut our way through the fence." Rick replied. "Seal it up behind us. The ones outside can't get us and neither can the ones inside. The main gate's closed so we can take care of any in between the fences. We can do this." He said. "We're gonna do it." And no one questioned the leader.
Even so, everyone was nervous bottlenecking across a footbridge over a creek and then having a fence in front of us and walkers coming from both flanks. Rick didn't hesitate, bringing his bolt-cutters on the fence before he had stopped moving and cutting away. Glenn and Maggie took care of the nearest walker; Glenn spearing it in the chest and pinning it to the fence so she could sink a hammer into its skull.
"Watch it. Watch the back side!" Theodore warned.
Daryl led the way with his crossbow, followed by Andrea and then Lori, Dale, Carl and Sophia as the dead closed in, Hershel and Carol, and I drove my crowbar down to remove the next nearest threat before Theodore caught my shirt and thrust me at the gap so that Maggie and Glenn could follow.
I was face to face with a blue prison jumpsuit and my first instinct was to drive the chisel of my crowbar through the fence and put down that snarling face. All those years trying to avoid prison and now I had shanked my first inmate. Another came at me and I put it down as well, the fence making it easy. I heard a gurgling snarl behind me and looked back to see Glenn flinching away from the cut he had just finished sewing up where another walker now gurgled and growled. I put that one down too.
"Steady on, killer." Theodore caught my shirt and once again thrust me onward, after Rick and the others who were heading toward the gate. It seemed to me Theodore spent a lot of time throwing me around.
The gravel track was clear but it was a corridor of mesh with convicts on one side and civilians on the other, all snarling and frustrated by the barriers. They followed us along, forming a pack on both sides. Outside they massed at the gate but inside, an overturned bus kept them away from the inner gate. It was secure on both sides. Safe. Despite all the noise; gnashing teeth and rattling metal.
Rick was well-ahead of us. "If we can shut that gate." He said, pointing with his machete up the slope to the building. "Prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off these walkers. We'll take the field by tonight."
"So how do we shut the gate?" Hershel asked, already knowing but asking the question anyway.
"I'll do it." Glenn volunteered immediately. "You guys cover me."
"No." Maggie just as swiftly denied him. "Suicide run."
"I'm the fastest." He said, which was true as he was older, healthier and fitter than me.
"No." Rick was twitching with anticipation and I tried to remember the last time I had seen him look this excited. If ever. "We need to spread them out. Beth, Maggie, Glenn; you draw as many as you can over there. Daryl, T-Dog; go back to the tower. Andrea, Bas, Dale; that side. Carol, Carl, Hershel, Sophia; take that tower. Start picking them off. I'll run for the gate."
"Can't we just take them all out through the fence?" Andrea asked and I raised my hand to signify I wondered that too.
"You got the strength for that?" He replied, pointing with his machete and I didn't think it was meant threateningly. Maybe… But Andrea and myself were forced to nod. There were a lot of them in there and with that gate open, there was no telling how many might spill out.
Dale had not been the most physical man even before he had gotten sick two months back and I would have said he should have sat this one out. But it was unlikely he would have listened. A golf club with the head snapped off made a perfect skewer for him to drive through the fence and through a walker's eyes.
Andrea made up for Dale's weakness, using a long chisel that didn't have the reach of Dale's golf club or my crowbar but was as every bit effective with her energy behind it. The bodies started piling up at her feet. A grim harvest.
The shots began ringing out then and I saw quick movement as Rick made his play into the yard. With walkers in front of me, he was little more than a blur that darted about, dropping bodies as he went with his suppressed pistol. They lost interest in us on this side of the fence and began moving toward him as he reached the gate and kicked a walker hard in the chest. He drew the gate shut and then chained it securely. As simple as that.
He didn't lose his cool either as he turned back to find himself facing a cloud of the dead. Instead he put two down and stormed the guard tower by the gate, slamming the door behind him where the undead convicts slapped ineffectually after him.
I didn't shoot. I couldn't. Andrea had her pistol and Dale his rifle and all the others had their firearms so that it was only myself and Sophia I saw who didn't shoot. She didn't need to. Neither did I. Let the others blaze away.
How many times in my life had I heard the expression fish in a barrel or rats in a trap? Well, that was actually perfect for this yard. The dead outside couldn't get in. The dead in the inner yard couldn't get out. The ones in the outer yard faced the secure door of Rick's guard tower and steel fences everywhere else. They were completely helpless. But they didn't react to it. They didn't react as others went down beside them in the cauldron around them. They got angry but they didn't get scared. They didn't panic. They just went down. Dropped one after the other. Until the yard was littered with blue-clad bodies in the overgrown grass. Behind me, the ones on the outside snarled and frothed because of the gunfire but they weren't getting through the fences.
West Georgia Correctional Facility. That was what the sign said. And likely for the first time in its history, people walked through its gates happy to be there. Carol was elated and I wondered if she was light-headed with fatigue but then Sophia joined her and mother and daughter did a little waltz over the long grass and onto the road. As they did, one of the downed walkers stirred and Glenn sprinted to it and stabbed it firmly in the head with his pipe. This didn't dampen anyone else's spirits and Theodore let out a long whoop.
I would celebrate later. Seeing one corpse start moving again after being shot in the head, I went around from body to body and firmly stabbed them so that the point went in one end and out of the other. No one stopped me. They were all aware of this habit of mine and most approved. Some found it morbid. When they questioned it though, I held up my left hand and that always killed the conversation. Although they never stopped asking.
By the time I was done though, I was pretty much dead myself. The others had been busy, clearing the gates so that they could bring the vehicles into the safety of the space between the gates. There was no question of moving the overturned bus today. No one had the strength left to move all the dispersed bodies across the yard into a heap. Another day's task.
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I had long since decided that it was best not to know what Daryl provided for dinner. If it lived in the woods, I had probably eaten it at this point. There was no discernible difference between all the birds I had eaten in my view; an owl or a pigeon was the same to me. What I did know was that there wasn't enough. Everyone else's stomachs agreed.
Lying in the long grass was pleasant. Months of sleeping on hard floors made it a nice change, as did a good fire instead of the tiny blazes we had been forced to cultivate indoors. This was the first decent respite in a good long while. Even with walkers rattling the fences only yards away.
I listened to them talking about cleaning up this field and its potential. I thought I must have been a terrible pessimist thinking they were mad talking about planting crops when actually, talking about this stuff meant they were thinking positive for the first time since… It had been awhile.
"That's his third time around." Hershel declared, meaning Rick. "If there was any part of it compromised, he would have found it by now." He had checked the fence while I had been double-tapping and then again before dark. Better safe than dead.
"Safety behind bars." Dale mused. "Now there's an irony."
There was a pause and I assumed they were looking at me, the criminal. I had already had this moment though so I said nothing. Then I felt a familiar weight on my thigh. Sleeping rough meant a lack of comfy pillows and at some point, Sophia had decided my leg made an adequate substitute. It would have been weird if falling asleep against people's shoulders hadn't become the norm amongst us. We would sit against walls, start dozing and wake up resting on the person next to us. We had all done it at some point. The only person who cared was Carl, specifically when Beth had snoozed on my shoulder. The kid was unaware how ineffectual his death glare was.
I listened as they discussed the food situation which was basically nothing and the ammunition situation which was grim. More of the same really. We had always managed for water funnily enough. Small mercies. It was really quite comfortable in the grass.
"Bethy." Hershel said and I knew what was coming when he called her that. "Sing 'Paddy Reilly' for me. I haven't heard that, I think… Since your mother was alive…"
"Daddy… Not that one, please." Maggie answered for her.
"How about 'The Parting Glass'?"
"No one wants to hear." Beth replied.
"Why not?" Glenn asked.
"Bas is asleep." Her shyness made her look for any excuse.
"Bas is always awake if you're going to sing." I said with my eyes still closed and I could sense her blush as the others chuckled.
What entertainment was there in this world? Card games. The occasional board game when the situation allowed and people were in the mood to do something so silly. Not much. When every day was spent simply surviving, there was no entertainment. Beth's singing… It made me think how primitive we had become but at the same time, how important her singing was. To all of us. Even Andrea who had originally disapproved because of her bleak outlook and her stance that it was unnecessary noise had come around to it. Because it was entertainment. And because Beth's voice was that special.
When Maggie harmonised with her, it was simply magical.
"Beautiful." As Hershel proclaimed when they were done.
Rick gave it only a few moments before shattering the peace. "Better all turn in. I'll take first watch. We've got a big day tomorrow."
I should probably have sat up but I was too shattered for that. I listened instead as Glenn inquired what he meant by that.
"Look, I know we're all exhausted. This was a great win! But we've got to push just a little bit more. Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners. Looks like this place fell pretty early. Could mean the supplies may be intact." The excitement in his voice grew. "They'd have an infirmary! Commissary-"
"Armoury?" Daryl naturally was interested in other things.
"That'd be outside the prison itself but not too far away." Rick didn't mind the interruption. "Warden's office would have info on the location. Weapons! Food! Medicine! This place could be a gold mine."
"We're really low on ammo." Andrea pointed out.
"We'd run out before we made a dent." Hershel added.
"That's why we have to go in there." Rick said simply. "Hand to hand." There was a moment of silence. We had done our best to avoid straight up fights like that. When even a scratch could be fatal, any kind of fight was extremely dangerous. "After all we've been through." Rick continued. "We can handle it. I know it! These assholes don't stand a chance."
I heard him stand and walk off and then the heavy sound of Lori climbing to her feet and pursuing him. No one said anything, either about the drama they were going to have or what lay ahead in the morning. There was no point talking about it either. Rick and Lori's relationship had never recovered from Rick killing Shane and with there being a very high probability that the baby she was carrying was Shane's; it didn't seem likely that it would recover with that constant reminder. But what did I know? As they only seemed to talk well away from the rest of us where we couldn't overhear we didn't know the details. Although every time they spoke, Rick focused heavily on our survival to distract himself.
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The fences kept the dead out. And in. Overnight there had been a build up as the dead drawn by our gunfire trickled in steadily from the surrounding countryside. Some rattled the fence where Andrea stood watch on the bus but mostly, they were passive. She was just one person out of reach and stationary. Nothing to get them riled up.
The inside was quiet. The convicts in the yard continued ambling about as they must have done since this all began and undisturbed until we had come along. Corpses in the ground could go thousands of years without being disturbed. The ones that walked didn't have that peace. Not until I stabbed them through the eye.
I did my work away from the gate and out of sight of the core of the surrounding buildings. As they had all spread out during the night, they came to me slowly, so they were easy to handle. But even after a good night's sleep, I still hadn't eaten properly in weeks and so after just eight my arms were leaden and I had to give it up.
Rick was standing there and it was hard to tell if he was giving me a death glare or if he was just especially tired this morning after taking first watch. "Did I tell you to do that?"
"I needed a workout before breakfast." I said and made to return to the campfire but he took a tight hold of my arm.
"I get that you're used to working alone. But we do this my way."
"I didn't go inside. I wasn't in any danger and I haven't put anyone else in danger." The dead drawn to me were approaching the fence and in another minute they would be shaking the fences. When we walked away, they would lose interest. "It's just that little bit easier when you go in now." I pulled my arm from his grip. "You're welcome."
"You got a problem, kid."
"Who doesn't?" I asked and left him to consider his own baggage. Collectively, it was our favourite hobby.
Breakfast was pitiful but at least we ate something. There had been days where we ate nothing. Those days however had not come with the promise of a hard fight and that was what lay ahead in the prison's inner yard. The eight I had taken down weren't even a dent and they had already drifted away, breaking apart and wandering aimlessly. I would have said putting everyone at the fences and stabbing through the wire would be the best idea but Rick was adamant about going in. Staying at the fences could easily draw every single one of them out into an unmanageable mass whereas if they went in, they could shut doors and gates and break them up into isolated pockets as we had by closing the field. It was riskier but the benefits were greater.
Not that his squad was impressive. Himself, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Theodore and Andrea. He wouldn't take me or Beth, nor Dale or Hershel. I doubted that even if he had wanted to take Carol that Sophia would have let him. Six people then while the rest of us spread along the fence to draw them apart and take out those we could.
They went in and I saw Theodore score first blood; driving his fireiron through a skull in a single motion. I used a crowbar and Beth used an axe for the reach, meanwhile Daryl used a short knife that he drove up through the lower jaw after grabbing a walker by the throat. Rick and Maggie had machetes while Glenn favoured a length of pipe and a knife. Andrea had a short hammer and a knife of her own. The two women wore tanktops despite the early morning chill because when they were done they would take them off and wear something fresh. Without bloody muck.
One on one, a walker was no match for any of them and as the walkers were scattered about, it was two on one or three on one. They stuck together, a tight formation that meant no one could be blindsided and they cut a path straight ahead as we stabbed through the fence until they became more interested in the food they could reach.
Even from here I could see them all breathing heavily. Between them they had downed only a dozen of them but with how little we had eaten for the past week and for most of the winter, any physical activity became tiring very quickly. I saw Theodore suddenly dash forward and grab something; a riot shield. Nice. He smashed a walker flat with it and Maggie darted in to finish it off. The way ahead seemed clear but as they advanced they suddenly drew hard against a wall, out of sight of something we couldn't see.
"That's not good." Dale said and produced his binoculars. He had lost his own in the RV at the Greene farm but had found some replacements. I remembered his pleasure at finding them and the talk he had given me about how he considered keeping his eyesight to be one of the greatest blessings of his age. I doubted there were many people left who needed glasses. "Not good."
"Pack?" I asked.
"I'm guessing." Whenever we saw the group suddenly go stealthy like that, it meant a lot of them were close by. The only thing I could see was that Daryl had readied his crossbow. "Oh, not good."
I had seen nothing but blue jumpsuits inside the prison but now there were some dark figures that seemed to be wearing armour. Riot guards, I realised. Well, that figured. And that wasn't good. They were wearing helmets. And I guessed they were wearing masks or visors which meant they couldn't bite but they could still grab, and hold.
I heard a yell and Rick and Daryl vanished while the other four grappled with the armoured figures, six of them now, and the distinctive snarls of a whole mess of walkers reached us which made Lori almost start climbing the fence with worry while Hershel bit his lips the way he did.
"I can't see, what do you see?" Carol pressed Dale.
"They've got it under control." Dale answered with that calm grace of his. He still mopped his brow and the sweat had nothing to do with the weather.
The half dozen armoured figures were suddenly being cut down as knives were driven up through jaws or under the rim of the helmets. One was battered down to the ground and then stabbed through the face. Just like that. The six of ours though were still not relaxed. The sound of the dead was loud and getting louder but not moving. There must have been another fence inside. Another gate they had closed perhaps.
From here we had no idea what they were saying to each other although they seemed calm enough. Exhausted but calm.
"Where are they going?" Lori asked, getting twitchy. "What are they doing?"
"They're going in." Hershel said. Going into Cell Block C.
"What do we do?"
"Wait." I said. "See what happens." As Dale was using his binoculars, I pulled the rifle from his shoulder to use the scope. The interior was a mess of trash and junk, like a dumping ground in a bad neighbourhood but there was no movement. The noise of the dead quietened just a bit as they had nothing in front of them to stir them up but it would be hours before they were still and silent. I could hear them rattling a fence. The action hadn't gone unnoticed by those on the outside and the outer fence along the entire perimeter had walkers gripping and shaking the wire. They would take a long time to calm down too.
"We just wait?" Beth asked.
"I'm not going in there without Rick's permission." Carol remarked.
I returned Dale's rifle and walked the length of the fence separating us from the inner courtyard. The gate and inner fence behind A Block seemed secure. So far as I could tell, the same was true for the fence behind C Block. But I couldn't see the interior where the dead were and so I had no idea what state those buildings were in. One broken door was all it would take to make the difference between secure and a messy death. Given the walls outside the windows showed signs of smoke damage, it was entirely possible the inner buildings might be gutted.
It was a good long while before Glenn came out of the building. He looked fairly broken but that was nothing new. It meant the adrenaline had worn off, meaning they hadn't had any trouble inside. That was good.
I actually had trouble entering the building. The natural instinct of a criminal facing jail perhaps. Or just a reaction to the cold, grey structure. It was not welcoming, even by the standards of the places we had been to before. And that was before entering to find Theodore dragging a body and Rick with something almost like a smile on his face. Everything was grey. Grey concrete floor. Grey walls. Grey steel. This place had been built decades ago and by the look of things, anything after that had been forbidden from entering. There was a small communal area which was lit by large barred windows and overlooked by a guard station which had the distinct blood spatter of a suicide. Beyond that were the cells, half a dozen below and above in this section.
"What do you think?"
"Home sweet home." Glenn was out of fucks to give.
Rick didn't seem to notice. "For the time being."
Lori was a bit more optimistic but still cautious. "It's secure?"
"This cell block is." His tone was defensive, like she had just mocked his accomplishment. It was getting exhausting dealing with their drama.
"What about the rest of the prison?" I heard Hershel ask as I checked out a scorch mark on the floor. It looked as if someone had torched a pillow case.
"In the morning, we'll find the cafeteria and the infirmary."
"We… Sleep in the cells?" Beth didn't quite sound horrified. Quite.
"Found keys on some guards." Rick explained. "Daryl has a set too."
"I ain't sleeping in no cage." Daryl declared from up above. "I'll take the perch." He indicated the top of the stairs above. He didn't see Rick glaring at him for talking the place down although the pat on the back that both Dale and Hershel gave him made up for it. I dropped my stuff on the floor right there and decided to help Theodore.
"I got it, man." He tried to say.
"I still got some left in me." Mostly I knew I wouldn't able to rest until I knew there were no bodies left inside. They had already cleared most of them though and it only left the guard in the station.
"Opted out." Andrea said. Even after all this time, we still used Jenner's euphemism. "Full magazine." She said, holding up the guard's weapon. "Almost…"
"Didn't fancy his chances in the yard." Theodore got that look of his. The melancholy expression as he contemplated yet another sad story.
"Works for us." As they contemplated, I went over his body. Rick had already claimed his keys but there were other things on him that were useful. He was a prison guard after all. He even had a working flashlight.
We got him out and I took a moment to look at the inner yard with its scattered bodies and the little pile we had made clearing out the block. It was just a moment because the dead further up were still loud but in the cell block; silence. Silence and tough steel doors between us and the outside.
Beth and Hershel had claimed the first cell in. Dale was in the next one along. Glenn and Maggie had taken over one which was decorated with brains… I went up the stairs to the far end and it was clear. No blood. No remains. Nothing burnt. Just an empty room.
I pulled the mattress off the top bunk and looked it over, looking for signs of tampering. There didn't seem to be any. I checked the lower one and it was the same so I put them together and then tried it out. Having slept on cardboard during my early teens, the two foam pads were practically luxurious. The sheets had that musty smell we had all become overly familiar with and the whole cell block stank of decay that I guessed had been there even in the old days.
"You don't want to share?"
I looked up at Sophia. "If I'm going to be an inmate, I want a cell to myself."
She looked around as if the cracked paint of the grey walls was fascinating. I did wonder why the walls were painted one shade of grey halfway up and a lighter shade the rest of the way. A toilet. A sink. A shelf. A lower shelf serving as a desk and a cold metal stool. The only colour in the whole cell was her rainbow T-shirt. The same shirt, I realised, she had been wearing when Dale's old RV had broken down on the highway and we had first become acquainted. It seemed like years ago, but it had only been months.
"Where's your mom?"
"Tidying up."
"That sounds like her." While everyone else had become resigned to resting in utter squalor, Carol's hands always seemed to find a broom to sweep up or a can of air freshener to take the edge off. I really needed to thank her for applying the homely touch all the time and making our lives just a little bit less than hell.
"What do you think?" She asked.
"About what?"
She shrugged and waved a hand vaguely.
"A pillow, some books and a lot of paint, and this'll feel like a nice place." While my new bed was comfy enough, the thought of waking up and staring at these grey walls for the rest of my life was horrific. "You still have your chalk?"
Sophia immediately brightened up. "In one of the cars." She looked around at the walls and saw blank canvas. A lot of it. Rick had always been talking about the Promised Land and Sophia been quietly collecting art supplies for it. The homes of the state of Georgia were dotted with her doodlings on their walls. "I can do so much here!" She touched the cold plaster of the far wall.
"What-cha doin'?" Carol appeared in the doorway.
"Your daughter's planning a career in interior design." I said. "She thinks she can brighten this place up with a few murals."
"Look at it! It's perfect!" She now had both hands on the wall; drawing and painting in her mind.
Carol and I exchanged a look and then she closed her arms around her daughter, hugging her from behind. "Okay… Maybe leave that until after we've washed the blood off the walls."
There was a time when this would have upset Sophia but instead she twisted around and asked an unlikely question. "Can we do that now?"
"Priorities." Carol replied and gave me another look. She was pleased she was happy, a little upset how desensitized she was to blood and mayhem and obviously concerned how her daughter kept seeking me out. At least I thought so. Carol had a soft spot for me and Daryl; her daughter's two saviours. But Daryl was gruff and kept people at arm's length while I didn't have the presence to do the same and so Sophia was always around me. Carol still had trouble with Sophia being out of her sight for too long so her wandering off to share my company, such as it was, put her on edge even though she knew where she was and who she was with. "I think we need to find some food before the cleaning supplies." She told her daughter.
"Oh… Okay…"
Her disappointment despite how tired and hungry we all were meant I had to bite my hand not to laugh and Carol gave me a third look before shaking her head. "Come on. I think we could all do with a nap."
"Yes, ma'am." I saluted her with my two fingers and she steered Sophia out of the cell. I heard them clank on the stairs and then their footfalls on the concrete floor. I could hear a soft murmur of voices from the other cells but besides that, it seemed that it really was naptime. We had all only been awake a couple of hours but we needed the rest. Rest behind the security of solid steel doors.
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Daryl and Rick left the prison to go hunting because it was still less energy than the fight that lay between us and whatever supplies might be found in the prison cafeteria; wherever that was. The rest of us stay put in the cell block, and vegetated. It was good to vegetate. We had water to drink but nothing else. We had all gotten used to the sound of grumbling stomachs but the concrete floors and walls seemed to magnify the sound.
With a few spare mattresses for seating, I sat with Beth, Carl and Sophia and played an umpteenth game of Monopoly. We had decks of cards and to the amusement of Rick, Carol and Hershel, I was teaching them Poker but the Monopoly set we had picked up in December saw the most use. We had Scrabble, but no dictionary. Even the adults wouldn't chance that. They thought Monopoly was risky enough. Carl and Sophia sometimes squabbled while Beth and I rolled our eyes but mostly we were just grateful for the distraction. It passed the time. That was why I didn't get exasperated trying to teach them Poker hands; the longer it took, the more time it killed. Lori didn't approve, even after Hershel had pointed out it didn't count as gambling because we had nothing to gamble with besides the plastic chips. In fact, he had strictly forbade us from ever using anything real. He was fine with Beth playing a game but he wouldn't stand for her gambling, even over who was assigned what chore as I had suggested once. He had made us promise and while I thought it was a bit much, I had sincerely given him my word. His conviction was pretty hard to oppose.
Dale slept. Hershel read his Bible. Theodore sat in a corner and brooded. Carol kept a pregnant and deeply uncomfortable Lori company. Glenn and Maggie stayed in their cell.
Andrea cleaned her gun. And every other firearm we possessed and did a complete count of every round we had collected. It was her comfort routine, even when the numbers were distressing. I remembered when she and Lori had fought over chores and I found it amusing that Andrea now dedicated herself to the biggest chore of cleaning. Sure, weapons rather than dishes but cleaning guns was long and laborious.
With the Ricktator and his right-hand man absent, I wondered who that left in charge right now. If it was the best shot, that was Andrea. Hand to hand, that went to Theodore. I didn't feel comfortable with either. While they had nothing on Rick, they were both very taut although Theodore edged her out on melancholy. Andrea didn't brood like she used to while Theodore seemed to spend a lot of time contemplating his navel. He was still a big man but like all of us, he had wasted over the winter. There had been more of him to lose.
If we were voting, I would have put Glenn and Maggie in charge. They were both smart and they filled in each other's blank spots. It was almost sickening how in sync they were sometimes, although I acknowledged it was just petty envy on my part. I doubted they were doing anything in the cell right now but being alone with Maggie at any time and in any way seemed like the best thing in our little world.
Better than being made bankrupt again by a smirking boy in his dad's hat.
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It was something of a pleasant evening meal although as always it was best not to ask what went into the stew. Between fourteen people it didn't go so far but it was better than the previous night's meal and fuelled the high everyone was feeling. Napping on actual beds, even with the miserable prison mattresses, was a relief. The steel doors and gates were impenetrable against the dead so there was no risk of being attacked unawares. Then there was the fences. Layers of security. The feeling of security always raised spirits.
Even with the big windows though, it got dark fast and the stark interior of our cells made that darkness seem deeper somehow. I could tell those spirits were sapped fast and it didn't seem like anyone would be in a rush to sleep.
Especially me. I made the swift decision to lie with my feet facing the door so I could see out. The glass of the big windows was frosted so that inmates had no clear view of the outside but it was better than the two shades of grey of the wall. At least my wall was clean. I would still need the services of our interior decorator however.
It was a long night.
Author's Notes:
Season 3 starts in mid-June after Season 2 ends in mid-November. Obviously, that length of time is necessary in TV land with aging actors. Obviously, I don't have that constraint and I can have them find the prison in March. Which means they have more time to settle in the prison as in the comics, before Woodbury becomes a problem