HEART OF GLASS¹ ━━ the walking dead ✓

[ 030 ] salt in the wound

He wasn't far. Glenn had pushed past the prisoners, infiltrating their makeshift camp nestled within the cafeteria's confines. He was on the hunt for medical supplies, which did not seem to please the convict's apparent leader, who refused to lower his gun and was scowling in Glenn's direction.

The doors began to rattle again, lurching and trembling beneath the strain of walkers attempting to breach the area.

"Who the hell are you people, anyway?" the menacing prisoner asked.

"Don't look like no rescue team," another with a deep southern accent stuttered nervously, his brows furrowed.

At that moment, Glenn charged across the cafeteria floor, wheeling a metal food-trolley toward Hershel. Marley and Maggie jumped into action immediately, grabbing Hershel's shoulders and hoisting his unconscious frame atop the trolley. Breathlessly, Rick helped in any way he could, securing another towel around the Greene man's bleeding stump with shockingly steady fingers. They waited momentarily while T-Dog attempted to remove the secure pole from the doors.

"If you're waiting for a rescue team, you might as well clear out now." Marley informed the clan of convicts coldly. It was another way of saying we don't want you here. "Luck ran out a long time ago."

The pole clattered to the ground. T-Dog flattened his hands against the door, keeping the walkers at bay for the meantime, until Hershel was securely in place atop the trolley.

"Now!" Rick yelled. "Open the door!"

In a flash, the doors clattered open and the flood of snarling walkers began to stream inside. At the repugnant sight, the prisoners stumbled backward fearfully — colliding with the blood-speckled walls in their efforts to steer clear of the chaos — while the group flaunted their experience by slaughtering the flesh-eating creatures with precision and a distinctive lack of hesitation.

And then they were through.

With her handgun raised, Marley raced behind Maggie and Rick, both of whom were grasping the trolley, wheeling it through the dank and murky hallways that twisted and curved around the prison's rotting structure like a sinister maze. The darkness was suffocating, swelling and distending in their route as though it was some living beast, feeding off of fear and irreparable grief.

"This way!" Glenn cried, pointing at the white arrow he spray-painted on the wall only half an hour ago.

Soon enough, the group returned to the entrance of the cell block. Carol fumbled with the keys, her eyes growing enormous at the sight of Hershel's worrying state. She unlatched the lock and ripped the door open, allowing them entry inside.

"Daddy!" Beth shrieked in horror. Tears welled in her eyes, and she rushed to be by her father's side as they wheeled him inside of a cell.

Marley and Lori worked together in lifting Hershel onto the lower-bunk bed, smearing blood on their tattered clothes in the process. The Greene man did not even stir, and his weathered skin was growing pale and clammy, the first indication that the internal organs were beginning to strain agonisingly in the wake of major blood loss. 

"What happened?" Carol questioned breathlessly.

"He got bit." Rick answered.