The Third Dixon [The walking dead]

Chapter six

The cafeteria smelled faintly of burnt coffee and metal, mixed with the lingering tang of sweat from the morning's chaos. Plates clattered softly as the group picked at their food. Nathan sat back, finished with his meal, cradling the baby in his arms. He watched Measi quietly, sitting next to her, her plastic fork clumsily scraping at her plate.

Measi's gaze drifted toward the cafeteria door as the heavy cell door clanged shut. She frowned, spotting Rick striding in, his boots echoing against the concrete. Daryl's eyes flicked briefly to his sister, a silent warning to stay alert.

"Everybody okay?" Rick asked, voice calm but carrying the weight of authority.

Carl glanced up from his plate, fingers wrapped around a half-eaten piece of bread. "Yeah, we are," he replied, placing a tentative hand on his father's shoulder.

Measi's frown lingered for a moment longer before she looked at Rick directly. "What about you?" she asked, tone careful but probing, almost like testing if he was still himself after the chaos.

Beth, sitting beside Measi, nudged her lightly under the table, a soft warning. Measi blinked, pulling her attention back to the plate.

Rick's jaw tightened slightly, eyes distant for a moment. "I cleared out the boiler block," he said finally, letting the words hang in the air.

Daryl leaned forward, voice low but steady. "How many were there?"

Rick shook his head. "I don't know. A dozen, two dozen... maybe more." His eyes swept the room, finally resting on Carl. "I have to get back. Just wanted to check on Carl."

Glenn reached over, brushing crumbs from his plate. "Rick, we can handle taking out the bodies. You don't have to." His voice was calm, but Measi noticed the slight tension in his shoulders. He knew Rick wouldn't hear reason if he thought it necessary.

"No, I do," Rick replied firmly, eyes flicking to Measi. Her sniper rested across her back, the strap snug over her shoulder, and she gave him a subtle nod. He continued, voice steady. "Everyone have a gun and a knife?"

"Yeah. We're running low on ammo, though," Daryl answered for his sister. Measi tugged the strap of her weapon closer to her, discomfort flickering across her face at the intensity of Rick's stare.

Glenn leaned back slightly. "Maggie, Nathan, and I were planning a run this afternoon. Found a phone book with some places we can hit—look for bullets and formula." He glanced between Maggie, Nathan, and Rick, making sure everyone was listening.

Daryl shifted in his chair. "We cleared out the generator room. Axel's there, trying to fix it in case of an emergency. Measi and I are gonna sweep the lower levels too." His voice was matter-of-fact, but his eyes flicked toward Measi, checking her reactions.

Rick gave a short nod. "Good. Good."

"Rick," Rick's back still to the group, called the older man's name without looking. The older man repeated, voice firm but weary. "Rick."

Rick didn't respond. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Hershel staring at the closed metal, lips pressed in a thin line.

Measi let out a slow breath, tensing as she adjusted the baby in Nathan's arms without thinking. The morning's adrenaline still clung to her like a second skin. She wondered briefly what it would take for everyone to have a single calm, safe moment—and then pushed the thought away. There wasn't time for that yet. Not with the world outside still hungry and waiting.

Nathan's eyes met hers. A small nod, a silent "we're still here," and she allowed herself to relax just slightly, even if the tension never fully left her shoulders.