𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 | 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘎𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴

Dead on our feet

The metal pole I thrust forward pierces the soft underside of the riot walker's jaw, causing it to crumple to the ground. Stepping on its chest for leverage, I yank the pole back out with a grunt, stumbling backward slightly, sweat dripping from my forehead. Jesus.

Panting, I turn to Glenn, Maggie, Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl, who have just finished their own kills, leaving the yard scattered with twice-dead bodies. "What now?" I question, wiping blood off my forehead with the back of my hand, disgust overcoming me. I feel like the outer layer of my skin is half walker blood, half dirt, and an extra quarter being sweat.

Rick glances around at my questioning, squinting in the bright morning light. "Let's try that building. C block," he suggests, nodding to the building to the left of us, closest to the yard, a large C on the side.

The six of us jog over, breaking down the door without difficulty, our weapons at the ready. Surprisingly, we don't need them. The vast building is void of walkers.

The huge room we cautiously enter has a little control tower against the back wall, overlooking the eight or so picnic tables scattered around. There's a small door to the left that leads into darkness, which Maggie doesn't waste any time closing, securing the room. To the right is a closed gate that leads to what looks like a two-story cell hall.

Daryl stalks slowly up the stairs to the guard tower, firing an arrow into the already dead guard's head. Wandering around the main room, I note the wide barred windows at the top of the walls and the useless phone station in the corner. On either side of the door, we entered are two large cages made with a chain link fence. I furrow my brows at the sight.

Despite the cold, brutalist, and seemingly uninhabitable facility we're in, that same bizarre feeling of hope flutters in me again. We really don't have to be on the run anymore. We actually found a place that we could make work.

I turn my head as Daryl calls out to us, jingling a large ring of keys in his spare hand. He tosses them to Rick, who tries a few keys on the gate to the cell hall until it finally unlocks with an echoing click.

The six of us spill into the lifeless cell hall, inspecting it carefully, our weapons drawn.

It's a narrow rectangular room with two stories of cells on one side and a wall with stairs and windows on the other. At the end of the hall is a door labeled 'BATHROOM' in faded letters. I duck into the empty and unsurprisingly disgusting room to confirm that it is in fact a dead-end and walker free.

As I walk out, grateful to be back in the better-smelling cell hall, I make eye contact with Rick, giving him the 'all-okay' nod to answer his questioning look.

"We should probably get the rest of them, huh?" Glenn suggests, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder. I nod in an agreement with the rest of the group.

"I'm sure they'll be grateful for the break from the sun, I know I am," T-Dog comments, and I have to agree. It's stuffy and humid in here, but much nicer than baking out there baking in the sun, unprotected.

Glancing over, I notice Rick is staring off into space, his face blank. My heart sinks at his exhausted expression. His eye bags are considerable, both dark and sunken. His eyes are cold as they gaze off into nothing. I thought he would be better, now that we found a place like he wanted for so long. He seemed happier about it yesterday at least. Maybe the reality of the difficulty of our cleaning out our new place is hitting him.

Rick suddenly snaps out of his trance-like state, glancing back at Glenn. "Yeah. Let's go," He agrees, and after a pause, we all turn to leave. Glenn walks out ahead, his arm around Maggie's shoulders, making me smile. At least they're happy.