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Training Day Just Got Real (Featuring Sea Shells On The Sea Shore)

"I got it!" Heather cheered, bouncing over to the gurgling walker as it emerged from the sea. The small point of her spear went through its skull, allowing it to fall into the lapping waves limply. She hurried back to my side, her gleaming pride dropping into an expression of determination as we marched along the beach.

I allowed her to join the training session on the one condition that she stuck to my side like glue, and that if she was in danger she ran away from it instead of towards it. Even I should've known that was too much to ask from the ever curious girl. She was my daughter, after all.

"Halt!" Aaron called out, a ripple of shields digging into the ground as we all waited patiently. Today was like any other, teaching the less informed people how to fight in the safest way possible. Thankfully we had a lot willing participants, and by willing I meant 'unable to complain'. Unless you took the mindless growling as a complaint.

Once he received confirmation, Ezekiel gently swung the door of an abandoned boat open, the rusted metal squealing on its hinges. That wasn't the noise that bothered me as a few walkers stumbled towards us, their throats bubbling with the water of the beach.

"Archers!" Aaron ordered, prompting the line of people at the back to ready their bows. With a series of twangs the sharp weapons were released from their strings, landing purposefully in the heads of the oblivious dead. In a rapid movement they retrieved their arrows, returning to safety behind the spiked shields.

We continued to march, the heels of my boots sinking into the damp sand as we neared the threat. More walkers ambled towards us, reaching and grabbing for the nearest food source- it just happened to be the people holding sharp objects.

"Spears!" was the next order of defence, my encouraging smile directed at Heather as she gripped her weapon tightly. It wasn't anything special, you could even consider it a beginners blade, but she would become a master at using it.

She didn't hesitate as the shields separated, the sharp point driving up as a walker towered over her.

And then it was my turn.

With a short nod at Michonne we ran through the gap in the defence, my sword already above my head and preparing to swing. It was as easy as cake, as natural as breathing, running the blade through the rotting skulls. I could've done it with my eyes closed, the thudding of dead bodies all the confirmation I needed that I successfully met my target. I didn't take any pleasure in killing them, but it made me sleep better knowing that it was one less set of teeth I needed to worry about.

It all seemed to be going to plan until the wood around the door started to crumble, dust pluming as the walkers inside pushed against it. I could see the cracks inching outwards, the frame weakening with every nudge. It didn't take long for the whole thing to come down, nothing between us as the dead snarled with hunger.

But this was something we trained for. In no time at all we took them down, the piles of bodies leaking brownish blood into the sand.

"Good job everyone." Michonne addressed us breathlessly, her sword snapping out as blood flicked from the tip. "Same time next week?"

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The kids had never been to the beach before, so it made sense that they would be curious. I knew I couldn't stop them from exploring, so the safer option was to join them.

"I wanna find a pink one to match this one." Heather held up a white shell towards the sun, the beams bouncing off the surface.

"Here's one." My fingers dug into the sand, revealing a mottled pink shell that twisted into a cone. Heather gleefully dropped it into her bucket, the shell clattering against her collection of stones and pebbles. "Maybe you can use them for a picture frame. They would make it look pretty, right?"