The Third Dixon [The walking dead]

Chapter two

Morning crept through the narrow windows of the cell block, streaking the concrete floor with pale light. The quiet of the prison was broken only by the soft clatter of weapons being checked and the murmur of voices as everyone prepared.

Measi sat cross-legged on the top bunk, her sniper propped against the wall beside her, fingers idly adjusting the scope. Nathan leaned against the railing nearby, methodically loading his gun, eyes flicking to the doors and windows. Neither spoke much; the tension of the morning made silence feel heavier than words.

From the lower level, Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, and Carl were gathering near the gate leading deeper into the prison. Lori stood off to the side, arms crossed tight, scanning the group like she was counting heads. Carl picked up a helmet and tried it on, the metal clanking loudly in the otherwise quiet block.

Measi's eyes narrowed as she watched. "That won't help," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

Rick noticed the small figure fiddling with the helmet and stepped forward, lifting it off Carl's head. "You won't need that," he said firmly. "I need you to stay put."

Carl's jaw tightened. "You're kidding."

Rick shook his head. "We don't know what's in there. If something goes wrong, you could be the last one standing. I need you to handle things here."

Carl nodded reluctantly. "Sure."

Rick clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Great. Let's go."

As the group started moving out, Measi leaned slightly over the railing. "Hey," she called down. "What do you need me to do?"

Rick glanced up, tired eyes meeting hers. "Just... stay here. Keep watch."

Measi frowned. "That's it?"

Rick shook his head, already turning to the others. "We've got it. Let's go."

She watched them file out, rifles and makeshift weapons in hand, tension in every step. Her stomach tightened. "Just stay here? That's it?" she muttered to Nathan.

Nathan gave her a small, patient shrug. "That's all they asked."

Measi pressed her lips together, restless. She wanted to move, to do something. Sitting in the cell block felt like being caged again, even if the prison was technically under their control. She shifted on the bunk, letting her legs dangle over the side, eyes scanning the yard and the distant trees.

"I hate this," she whispered, more to herself than to Nathan. "Sitting here while they run around, risking everything... and I get nothing."

Nathan's hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're here for a reason. They trust you to cover this. That's more than nothing."

Measi sighed, leaning back against the wall, but her fingers itched on the rifle. "It doesn't feel like enough," she said softly. "I need to do more."

Nathan looked at her with a small, knowing smile. "You'll get your turn. Just keep your head. Watch and wait. That's the turn for now."

Measi leaned her cheek on the wall, jaw tight, restless energy simmering beneath the surface. She knew she wouldn't be able to sit still for long, and as the sound of boots faded down the hall, she let her eyes drift to the shadows outside the windows, already imagining the next move she could make.

The shouting came first, echoing down the narrow corridors of the cell block. The group that had stayed behind frowned at the sound. Carl and Measi were the first to move, rushing to the door. Carl swung it open while Measi pressed herself next to him, her hands clamped over her mouth as her eyes went wide. Hershel's leg—gone, chopped clean through.