Into the Shadows

The air as we pushed deeper into the prison felt suffocating, heavy with the metallic tang of blood and the sharp stench of rot. Daryl, Rick and I led Maggie, Glenn, T-Dog and Hershel further into the maze of concrete and iron bars. We were in search of the cafeteria, the infirmary, and with any luck, a full armory.

Rick was hesitant to let Hershel come along - I think we all were - but the farmer had already hung back as we fought for the prison grounds, and then again when we pushed into the penitentiary itself. He was done with watching from the side lines. Plus, he was a grown man who could make his own decisions.

Honestly, I think it's just because he couldn't bear letting Maggie put herself at risk again without him being there if things went bad.

Every corner we turned felt like we could be ambushed, and I gripped the knife in my hand so tightly that my knuckles ached. I really hated it when we had to face walkers in the dark - it unnerved me that I could use my usual tactic of anticipating their movements. Luckily, we seemed to be alternating through lit and then jet blank areas, so at least we weren't in darkness the whole time.

Daryl was to my right, his crossbow slung over one shoulder, his movements quiet and precise. Even in barely any light, I could see the tension in his shoulders.

"Stay close," he spoke over his shoulder, his voice low but firm.

Rick held up a hand, signalling for us to stop. The hallway stretched out in front of us, dark and ominous, the walls smeared with blood. Somewhere up ahead, a walker groaned, the sound echoing like a warning.

"Stay quiet," he whispered.

I resisted the urge to point out that he was the only one speaking.

We moved forward, weapons ready, and the tension palpable. I was relieved when we came to a corridor with proper windows, allowing light to pass through. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

No. Fucking. Way.

Some sort of planetary alignment must have taken place because we stumbled had upon the armory. I held my breath as Glenn and Maggie pried open the door, praying that we'd strike gold inside.

My pulse quickened as we entered and saw what was inside - riot gear, batons, shields, even a few guns and piles of ammo. I felt like jumping up and down in elation.

"We'll need these," Rick said, his voice steady but grim as he started passing out pieces of riot gear.

"I ain't wearin' that shit.' Daryl announced.

I grabbed one of the shields, sliding my arm through the straps. It immediately lessened my range of movement. I wasn't wearing this shit either. I was taking a new gun, though. I still had my Glock, but it wouldn't hurt to have a friend for it. We loaded up like we were kids in a very dangerous candy store.

It wasn't long before we found more walkers. They came at us in a rush, their snarls filling the air as we fought them. One of them got far too close for my liking, it's rotting face was inches from mine when Daryl's knife plunged into its skull. He yanked it free, his eyes scanning me quickly before he turned back to the fight. I'd have been mad about him saving my ass, but I was already duelling with two other walkers, so I'd let him off.

It wasn't until we reached the cafeteria that everything went to hell.

We'd barely stepped inside when they attacked - more walkers, shambling out of the darkness, their rotting hands reaching for us. The room erupted into chaos, the sounds of snarls and screams blending into a deafening roar.

I swung my knife again and again, the movements becoming automatic, pure adrenaline taking over. Beside me, Daryl was a blur of motion, his crossbow firing, his knife slicing.

But then Hershel fell.

"No!" Maggie's scream cut through the noise as her father hit the ground. I turned just in time to see the walker sink its teeth into his leg. Blood sprayed as Rick and Daryl yanked it off him, killing it before it could do more damage.

My stomach churned as I stared at the wound. He'd been bit. We all knew what this meant, what we'd have to do, but I couldn't bring myself to say it.

Rick did. "We have to amputate."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Maggie was already crying, nodding through her tears as she knelt beside Hershel.

"Do it," she said.

I turned away, unable to watch as Rick raised the hatchet. The sound was worse than I imagined-the wet thud of the blade, the sickening crunch of bone. Hershel's scream ripped through me, and I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay focused.

"He's bleeding bad," T-Dog said.

No shit, Sherlock. The man had just had his leg chopped off...

"We need to move him." Glenn announced, pressing a cloth to Hershel's stump.

Before we could attempt to lift the farmer, voices echoed from the far end of the cafeteria. My heart stopped as figures stepped out of the shadows.

They weren't walkers. They were men. Very dirty, very hairy, men, five of them peering at us through the bars.

"Who the hell are you?" the biggest one demanded, his voice sharp and rough.

Rick stepped forward, his gun still in hand. "We didn't know anyone was still here. We're just trying to clear this place out."

The man snorted. "Clear it out? You're making enough noise to wake the dead."

Tension crackled in the air, thick and suffocating. I could see the way Daryl's fingers twitched near his crossbow, the way Rick's jaw tightened. This could go very badly.

"Look," Rick said, his voice steady. "We don't want trouble. We just need a place to stay."

The prisoner's eyes narrowed. "You think this place is safe? You don't know what you're walking into."

I glanced at Daryl, his face hard and unreadable. But I knew him well enough to see the worry beneath it.

"This could go south real fast." he all but whispered to Rick and I.

"Stay ready." Rick spoke in response.

The prisoners were trapped behind the gate that led to their own cellblock, so they weren't a priority right now. Hershel was. Daryl and Rick carried him back to the cellblock. He'd fallen unconscious, and Maggie was in shock. I grabbed her hand as we walked and squeezed it tightly, Glenn already holding the other.

Beth erupted into fits of tears as we returned to the cellblock. She held Hershel's hand and screamed 'Daddy' repeatedly. It was heart-breaking. There was nothing else we could do now but wait for him to wake up - if he woke up... Glenn was tasked with 'dealing with the problem' if he didn't.

Rick and Daryl returned to the prisoners we'd met. They were safely behind bars, but those bars also held access to the storage area of the cafeteria, and we desperately needed food.

They returned much later, food in hand, explaining that they'd made a deal to help them clear out a new cellblock in exchange for half of the food. They'd agreed, but in making their way to the cell block altogether, three of them had died, leaving just two men remaining. I didn't ask what had happened to them, I didn't care.

It was late in the evening when Hershel finally roused, much the relief of, well, everyone. He only had one leg, but he was alive. I'm sure he's kicking himself for coming along.

Can you still kick yourself if you only have one leg?

We'd all headed to our cells to rest. I was exhausted from both the events of the day and the fact that I hadn't slept a wink the previous night. The walls of my cage felt like they were closing in on me, and I'd had to keep forcing myself to breathe.

Air. I needed air.

Slipping off of my bunk, I quickly pulled on my boots and crept out of the cell. I moved quietly so as not to wake anybody until I reached the door to the roof. As soon as it swung open, the tension in my body began to release.

I stayed on the roof for hours, staring up at the stars. The way they glistened in the ebony sky made me feel so small and significant. I could breathe out here.

Not a lot of Dathena in this chapter - it's just a short one I added in to show introduce the prisoners and how show Hershel had lost his leg.

Don't fret, though - our main characters are about to spend a full day alone together in the next chapter... 😜