❝HEARTBREAK IS ONE THING MY 𝗘𝗚𝗢'𝗦 ANOTHER❞
In which it no longer matters that Evangeline Waters was a hot shot lawyer with a nice apartment and the best daughter she could've asked for. Because if you don't know the right way to stab a dead...
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In the pale light of dawn, the weary survivors gathered in the common area to discuss their dire predicament. The previous night's attack had left everyone on edge. The yard outside was teeming with walkers, a grotesque sea of the undead pressing against their fences. The once formidable prison now felt more like a trap, with the relentless dead encroaching from all sides. They knew it was only a matter of time before the walkers breached the cell block. Trapped inside with dwindling supplies, desperation hung thick in the air.
"We're not leaving," Rick declared, his voice resolute. He stood at the center, his eyes blazing with determination. The prison was their home, their sanctuary, and he wasn't about to surrender it without a fight.
Lily sat on the staircase, her fingers deftly braiding Sutton's hair into two neat plaits. As she listened to the heated exchange between Rick and Hershel, her face remained calm, but her eyes betrayed her concern.
"We can't stay here," Hershel argued, his voice tinged with urgency.
Maggie, her expression tight with worry, chimed in, "What if there's another sniper? A wood pallet won't stop one of those rounds." She gestured towards the tall grass and trees outside the gates, a perfect cover for enemy shooters.
Beth, her young face pale and tense, nodded in agreement. "We can't even go outside."
"Not in the daylight," Carol added, her mind racing to find solutions. "It's too dangerous."
"Look, Rick says we're not running, we're not running," Glenn said, standing firm beside Rick.
From behind the locked gate of his cell, Merle's grating voice cut through the air. "No, better to live like rats," he sneered, clearly disapproving of their current strategy.
Rick turned to face him, his patience wearing thin. "You got a better idea?"
Merle didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, we should have slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn't we? I'm sure he's got scouts on every road out of this place by now."
Daryl retorted, "We ain't scared of that prick."
Merle shook his head, his expression dark. "Y'all should be. That truck through the fence thing, that's just him ringing the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he's got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place, shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to."
Maggie, her frustration boiling over, snapped, "Let's put him in the other cell block."
"No. He's got a point," Daryl said, surprising everyone by defending Merle's logic.
Maggie turned to Merle, her anger blazing. "This is all you! You started this," she shouted.
Beth, her voice trembling, asked the question on everyone's mind. "What's the difference whose fault it is? What do we do?"
