A Broken World

Forty-Three

The next day we got ready to push into the rest of the prison to try and find the cafeteria. Once we find the cafeteria the infirmary is the next thing to find. “Ya comin’ with us?” I looked up from where I sat on the round metal stool in the cell I picked to sleep in. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm coming. Just making sure these mags are full.” Daryl nodded his head, looking down at the floor. He turned around and walked away. “Okay,” I whispered and went back to my task.

There was a little arguing about Hershel coming along with us but eventually it was settled and he came with us. We had chest plates and helmets from the riot gear walkers that we cleaned off. Glenn, T-dog, and Hershel were the only ones to wear it. As we walked the corridors Glenn marked which way we had come so we wouldn't get lost. There would be a couple times we would go down a corridor and there would be walkers. We would just silently back up and go another way.

Of course the time we did that we ended up getting separated and Hershel was bitten. He trembled over a walker that was slumped against the wall. It looked like it was dead but as soon as Hershel was close enough, it grabbed a hold of his leg and t0ok a bit out of his calf. Now we're in the cafeteria trying to stop the bleeding. “What're we doing, Rick?” I asked, putting pressure on the wound. He drops his hatchet and began to pull his belt off.

He took the belt and wrapped it around Hershel's leg just below the knee and tightened it as much as he could. Then he picked the hatchet up. “Wow, hold on, Rick.” He looked at me with a serious face, “We have to do something. We have to stop the infection from spreading,” he said. He wasn't wrong, we did need to stop the infection before It spread. “We don't know if that will stop it.” With one more glance at everyone around the room he took a deep breath and brought the hatchet down, cutting through flesh and bone until the bottom half of Hershel's leg was off.

“Holy shit.”

All of our heads snapped up and looked towards where the voice was. There were six prisoners all staring at us from the kitchen of the cafeteria. “We need to get him back now, Rick,” I said. Glenn brought over a mental table on wheels and we loaded Hershel up onto it so we could get him back to the cell block. Daryl had his crossbow on the prisoners and as soon as everyone was out the door I stayed behind to help Daryl make sure they didn't try anything.

As soon as we got Hershel back, Lori and Carol were there to help us. We laid him onto the bed and started grabbing clean sheets to get a compress on the stump. Daryl, T-dog, and I went back out to the common area. The prisoners had followed us from the cafeteria. “What happened to him?” One of them asked. We didn't say anything until Daryl spoke up. “He got bit,” he said. The same guy looked at us confused.”Bit?” He said, taking a gun out.

T-Dog lifted the shotgun he had up and pointed it at the prisoners. I had my gun pointed at them as well and Daryl had his crossbow up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy now. Nobody needs to get hurt,” he told them. “Who are you people anyway?” The “leader” of the small band of prisoners asked. “Don't look like a rescue team,” another one with a handbag mustache said. “There isn't any rescue team coming,” I said.

“Today’s your lucky day, fellas. You’ve been pardoned by the state of Georgia, you’re free to go,” Darl tells them. “What you got going on in there?” The ring leader asked, stepping forward. Daryl aimed his crossbow at his head, “Ain’t none of your concern.” The prisoner lifts his gun back up and points it at us again. “Don’t be telling me what’s my concern!” He yelled.

A big tall hefty man stepped forward, “Chill, man. Dude’s leg is messed up. Besides, we’re free now!” He tells them. “Why are we still in here?”

“Man’s got a point,” Daryl said. Anlthet tall man spoke up, “Yeah, and I gotta check on my old lady.”  The mouthy one ignored what his prison buddies were saying and glared at us. “Group of civilians breaking into a prison you’ve got no business being in, got me thinking there ain’t no place for us to go!”

“Why don’t you go find out?” Daryl spat back at him. Mustache man stepped forward a little and said, “Maybe we’ll just be going now.” Mouthy pushed him back and puffed out his chest. “Hey, we ain’t leaving!” T-Dog aiked his gun at him, “You ain’t coming here either!”  The prisoner scoffed, “Hey, this is my house, my rules, I go where I damn well please!”

“There ain’t nothing for you here, why don’t you go back to your own sandbox?” Daryl said. I was busy looking at the prisoner that was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and a creepy smug smile on his tattooed face. He didn't have many tattoos on his face, not like he did on his arms and neck. But he looked awfully familiar. A twisting gut feeling told me that I not only knew him but he was extremely dangerous.

“Hey, hey, hey! Everyone relax, there’s no need for this,” Rick's voice Thomasforsing my attention onto him. “How many of you in there?” Mouthy asked. Rick tilted his head a little and squinted his eyes. “Too many for you to handle,” he said. “You guys rob a bank or something? Why don’t you take him to a hospital?” Rick ignlred him, “How long have you been locked in that cafeteria?” He asked. Mouthy looked at his buddies and back at us . “Going on like ten months,” he answered.

  “A riot broke out. Never seen anything like it,” the big guy told us. “Attica on speed, man,” Mustache chimed in. “Ever heard about dudes going cannibal, dying, coming back to life? Crazy,” A shorter prison commented.

“One guard looked out for us, locked us up in the cafeteria, told us to sit tight, threw me this piece, said he’d be right back,” ring leader said.. The big guy looked down and shook his head. “And that was 292 days ago.”

94 according to my…” Mustache guy started but was cut off. “Shut up!”

“We were thinking that the army or the national guard should be showing up any day now,” the big guy told us looking disappointed. “There is no army,” Rick said. Ring leader gave him a skeptical look. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no government, no hospitals, no police. It’s all gone,” I said. “For real?” Mustache asked in a sad tone. The big guy looked around, looking us in the eye to see if he could find a lie. “What about my moms?” He asked. The other tall guy stepped forward a little, “My kids, my old lady! Yo, you got a self-phone or something so we can call our families?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Daryl asked a little harshly. “No phones, no computers. As far as we can see, at least half the population’s been wiped out. Probably more,” Rick said. Mouthy shook his head, “Ain’t no way,” he said. “See for yourself,” Rick told them, pointing at the door. We went to turn around when the guy I had been looking at stepped forward with a huge cocky smile on his face.

“Well, hello, Detective Stone, Remember me?”