IN WHICH - The last thing that Hope Mikaelson expected when she came out of Malivore was to still be alive, the second last thing she expected was to be disowned by most of her living family, and the final last thing she expected was some ancient be...
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THIRD PERSON POV
CHAPTER 34
The moment their bodies disappeared from view, the prison yard felt eerily empty. Hope, Rick, Carol, and Glenn were gone, racing into the woods to find Daryl. Lori stood in the courtyard, trying to keep her breathing steady as a sharp twinge coursed through her belly. She pressed a hand to her lower abdomen and grimaced. Hershel, noticing her distressed expression, stepped forward with a worried frown.
"You okay, Lori?" he asked, voice quiet but urgent.
Lori opened her mouth to answer, but another contraction slammed into her, fiercer this time. She doubled over with a startled cry. The weight of her belly made her stagger, and she leaned on Hershel's shoulder for support.
Maggie, who had been pacing anxiously near the gates, rushed to Lori's side, looping an arm around her waist. "Let's get you inside," she murmured, alarm sparking in her eyes. The gate behind her rattled, left partially unlatched in the hurry, but in the moment, no one noticed.
Nearby, Beth darted over. "I'll help!" she said, nerves shining on her face, but she quickly tucked them away, focusing on Lori's need.
With Hershel guiding from one side and Maggie from the other, they began steering Lori back toward Cell Block C, where they'd set up a makeshift infirmary and living quarters. Lori's breathing turned shallow, beads of sweat forming on her brow. Beth hovered close, wringing her hands anxiously.
They reached the main corridor, echoes of their footsteps reverberating in the high ceilings. The echo, however, masked the faint, eerie moans drifting from deeper inside. Hershel paused, brow creasing. "Do you hear—?"
A sudden clamor resonated from down a side hallway. Before anyone could react, Big Tiny stumbled into view, arms sagging limply, vacant eyes glazed with unlife. Oscar, right behind him, lurched across the threshold with a milky stare and blood streaking his chin.
Maggie inhaled sharply, and Beth let out a small cry of horror. "What—? They were fine an hour ago!" Beth whispered, voice trembling.
But Hershel's face went grim. "They must've been bitten or scratched somewhere," he said. "Or attacked when we didn't notice." He steadied Lori, then nodded at Maggie. "We have to put them down."
Big Tiny and Oscar, now walkers, stumbled forward with guttural snarls. Their uniforms, once bright with the prison's standard orange or gray, appeared torn and dark with dried blood. Their slack jaws hung open, moaning as they lurched toward the group, arms outstretched.
Maggie glanced left, searching for a weapon, but Beth was unarmed too. Hershel gently leaned Lori against the wall, pressing a supportive hand to her back. "Beth, keep Lori safe," he urged, voice taut. "Maggie—"
But Maggie was already rushing forward, every bit of farm-girl grit shining as she tried to shield them. "I'll handle it," she muttered. Her eyes darted around for something to use, eventually snatching up a broken broom handle from a corner. "Stay back," she warned Beth and Hershel, brandishing her makeshift spear.
