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THEY WERE LIVING PEOPLE, well, prisoners to be exact.
Juliet's shoulder blades were digging into the cold metal of the door, feeling the constant, never-ending thuds of walkers slamming on the other side. They weren't giving up, not even taking a second to stop. Each impact sent a shiver through her, aching her backbone with a pain that Juliet knew would last for days. Her grip tightened on the baton she'd jammed against the handle, a flimsy barricade that barely held under the walkers' hunger driven assault. But her gaze wasn't on the door or even on the unconscious Herschel laying down on the cold hard floor —it was locked on the five men staring right back at them.
"Who the hell are you?" Daryl demanded, his eyes never leaving the prisoners as he kept his crossbow at the ready.
"Who the hell are you?" One of them flipped the question.
"He's bleeding out, we have to go..." Maggie notified, her hands shaking as they hovered over her father's unresponsive figure.
Rick gulped, eyes darting across the room as he thought, "Come around here and put pressure on the knee." He ordered the girl, who immediately obied–he looked at Glenn and ushered him forward–clearly, it had to be a two person job.
"You can come on outta there." Daryl told the prisoners, "Slow and steady."
The prisoners shuffled out slowly, their wary eyes scanning each face in the group before they landed on Herschel, lying pale and still on the floor.
"What the hell happened to him?" one of them asked, his dark hair tied back in a loose half-up, half-down style.
Daryl's voice was blunt, unflinching. "He got bit."
The man's eyes went wide, a flicker of fear flashing across his face. His hand drifted toward his holster, his fingers curling around the grip. "Bit?"
In an instant, T-Dog pulled out his own gun, his movements almost instinctual. Daryl's grip on his crossbow tightened, his gaze locked onto the man's shifting stance.
"Whoa, easy now," Daryl said, his voice low and steady, a warning laced beneath the calm.
The prisoner's gaze wavered between T-Dog and Daryl, gulping, as he weighed his options, his finger twitching near the trigger. But Daryl held his ground.
"Nobody needs to get hurt," he murmured, his tone firm yet laced with a subtle challenge.
Rick took a steadying breath, directing his focus back to Herschel. "Maggie, keep the pressure on his leg," he instructed, his voice tight with urgency. "Glenn, see if there's any medical supplies. Anything. Now."
