[ xxxix. how it's done ]
june 22nd, 2011
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ASTRID LANCASTER STOOD READY and poised around the chain link fence in the harsh afternoon light that following day, heart pounding as she and a few others prepared to enter the treacherous prison courtyard, a realm currently overrun by a horde of walkers. Among the chosen few to venture forth with her were Daryl, Rick, Glenn, T-Dog, and Maggie, while the remaining group members would hold their position in the cleared yard behind them, attempting to thin the ranks of the undead through the fence. It should have been routine, given the experience they bore, but a knot of anxiety still tightened in Astrid's gut, acutely aware that their only defense lay in the form of knives and machetes—precious yet breakable commodities when forced to forgo their usual ammo.
Sinister growls filled Astrid's ears, and Daryl gently knocked her arm, drawing her attention. "Stay close to me, alright?" He urged. She nodded curtly, a silent acknowledgment, and then her eyes pivoted to Hershel, their designated man at the courtyard entrance.
"Everyone ready?" Rick questioned. An affirmative nod rippled through the gathered group, each individual readying themselves for what was to come. "Alright, go!" Hershel quickly swung open the gate, and the six survivors shot forward with purpose, the courtyard beckoning them into its black heart. The iron clang of the gate's closure reverberated behind them, sealing their fate within the confines of this grim battleground. There was no going back now.
"Astrid, watch out!" Maggie cautioned, wrenching Astrid's focus ahead.
A walker lurched forward, yet Astrid heard it before she saw it. The Lancaster woman lunged in response, grappling for the walker's rotten shoulder. The glint of her hunting blade, gifted to her by Daryl, flashed as she thrust it upward, the sickening crunch of bone yielding to her force. She recoiled, casting aside the lifeless form that had threatened her, a surge of adrenaline lending her strength onward.
Drawing in a steadying breath, Astrid and the others fell into formation, forming a barricade against the advancing tide of monstrosities. Daryl stood sentinel on Astrid's left, while Maggie held her ground on the right flank. Their weapons became extensions of their wills, slicing through the air with lethal precision. Astrid's blade met tissue and bone, carving a path through the horde that dared encroach upon their newly claimed territory. Each thrust, each impact, sent ripples of blood into the air, splattering the Lancaster woman's once-clean skin with macabre artistry. The symphony of thuds pulsated as walkers met the hot, unforgiving ground, one after another.
Daryl's touch, a reassurance woven through the fibers of her being, granted Astrid a faraway feeling of comfort as they moved. His fingers continuously traced a path along her arm, as if just to reassure himself that she was still there beside him. Yet, as the battle roared on, his fingers slipped away, a reminder that their focus was committed to the very home they now fought for.
"Everyone, stay tight!" Glenn instructed from somewhere behind her.
The swiftness with which they dispatched the walkers left Astrid in awe. They were rapidly clearing a path through the courtyard, drawing nearer to their goal with every fallen foe. However, as they approached the apex of their advance, a flurry of frantic cries shattered the air. "Don't break rank!" Rick shouted.
Astrid cast a sharp glance at the source of the turmoil, eyes widening as T-Dog broke free from their back-to-back formation. "We need this!" He hollered back. The riot shield he now brandished held the promise of higher protection, a weapon all its own against the walkers. The audacity of the maneuver was not lost on Astrid, understanding the lengths they were willing to go to emerge victorious. And yet, it was a gambit that hung precariously on the edge of disaster. They could not afford any accidents here. Not anywhere.
Navigating the dangerous terrain, Astrid scanned the remainder of the courtyard and realized they were nearing a corner. The fact that she could not see what lay beyond it churned her stomach. Just then, Rick's sudden recoil, a visceral reaction that sent him careening against a nearby wall, prompted a reflexive response from the rest. Their bodies moved in tandem, driven by the same gut feeling that danger lay in wait. "Shit," Rick cursed harshly. "We need to get that fence closed."
Astrid cautiously leaned forward, and her gaze swept across Rick's panting form, revealing a chilling sight that unfolded further down the courtyard. An onslaught of grotesque figures, walkers by the dozen, shambled openly beyond the gaping maw of another breached fence. Dread pooled within Astrid, recognizing now that the battle they waged was truly far from over.
Suddenly, a new threat materialized before her—a procession of walkers emerging from a nearby building, their silhouettes adorned with riot gear. The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, a cruel escalation of danger that ratcheted the stakes impossibly higher. A tremor seized Astrid, yet the steel in her spine reinforced as Daryl launched past her with a primal resolve. His crossbow quivered with tension as he released the projectile—yet the impact was a dissonant clash. The bolt ricocheted harmlessly off the helmet, an ineffectual assault that propelled the walker closer, teeth gnashing, encased in its impervious armor.
"Rick, Daryl, take the gate!" Astrid ordered sharply. "We'll handle this!"
Urgency crackled in the air as Rick and Daryl orchestrated a calculated gamble against the horde. A breakneck charge toward the fence ensued. Meanwhile, Astrid and the others now faced their own trial by fire, confronting the riot gear-clad walkers that loomed menacingly before them.
Behind her, more growls heralded the emergence of another doorway which then disgorged a new horde of walkers, their figures all draped in the same shroud of riot gear. Astrid's heart quickened, adrenaline burning through her veins as she braced for the onslaught. A gasp tore from her lips as she evaded the reach of an outstretched arm, instinct driving her to repel the relentless assault. Her violent shove sent the walker reeling, albeit momentarily.
A strangled scream, an echo of terror from Maggie, pierced the maelstrom, diverting Astrid's focus for a fraction of a second. It was all the opening the armored walker needed, a savage lunge that threatened to ensnare her in its clutches. Instinct was her shield once again, her reflexes the weapon that had kept her alive through countless trials before—it would do it again.
Resolve hardened within Astrid, a vow etched in the marrow of her bones. The walker's advance was met with bitter resistance, her grip vice-like as she wrestled against the unforgiving force that held her. Astrid seized the walker back with a ruthless grip, forcing her blade upward with a rush of her own power. It penetrated the walker's defenses, cleaving a path through its armor to deliver a fatal blow through the bottom of its head. A shudder reverberated through Astrid as the blade met bone and then brain, the gruesome cadence of death's embrace. Blood splattered across her as she ripped her knife free again and shoved the dead body away from her.
As the walker's lifeless form crumpled to the ground, a hushed awe enveloped her surroundings. Wide-eyed stares from Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog bore witness to her battle, awe-struck by the spectacle of her resolute prowess. She stood amidst the chaos, a lone figure unyielding against what should have been a sure trap.
"Now that's how it's done," She breathed heavily.
In the wake of the skirmish, the rest of the group rallied to dispatch the remaining riot gear-wearing threats that surrounded them. Knives thrust, jaws pierced, and necks were slashed until no walkers were left standing in the courtyard.
Astrid exhaled a ragged breath of relief as the faraway gate, their last bastion to claim this location, was closed and secured by Daryl and Rick. She quickly jogged to meet them, and her hunter met her halfway, eyeing her extremely bloody appearance. "You okay?" He asked.
"Yeah," Astrid affirmed. "Are you?"
Daryl nodded in return. Together, they took a breath, a moment of reprieve amidst the aftermath of their ferocious attack. Their surroundings were complete carnage, with fallen bodies at nearly every step. Amidst the morbid scene, Glenn had stepped away, but his intent on reaching the gate where the others from their group lingered and waited, was halted by Rick's upraised hand. "Stop," He ordered.
Glenn turned back around. "What?" He asked, perplexed by the sudden stop. "It looks secure."
"Not from the look back there," Daryl countered. Astrid's attention turned, following the trajectory of her hunter's pointed gesture. The courtyard to their right that had just been locked still teemed with walkers. Frustration blossomed within her, but she knew with truth that his prison, despite its promise, was not yet entirely safe. They could not let their guard down just yet.
The challenges they faced were multifaceted, too. Astrid's eyes descended, settling upon one of the dead figures at her feet, and inspected its feminine attire. "That's a civilian," She noted.
"So, the interior could be overrun with walkers from the outside," T-Dog concluded.
"Well, if there are walls down, what're we going to do?" Glenn questioned. "We can't rebuild this whole place."
Rick's decision crystallized into immediate action. "We can't risk a blind spot. We need to push in," He declared. The closest building loomed before them, a new chapter in the same undead war. Astrid exchanged a weary glance with Maggie before they proceeded to follow after the men.
The lone door beckoned. Rick grabbed its red metal handle, and with a deliberate push, the barred door swung open, a gateway into the enshrouded abyss beyond. Into the shadows they ventured, careful footsteps punctuating the inky void. The door closed loudly behind them, pitching their senses into darkness.
Deafening silence enveloped Astrid. No growls of the undead. As her vision gradually adjusted to the gloom, she discerned their surroundings—a cellblock, an eerie labyrinth of incarceration. The space bore the scars of a battle fought and lost at the start of the outbreak, its disheveled state a witness to the inescapable tide of adversity that had swept through.
Rick guided them through the chamber, each member of the group fanning out in a display of vigilance. The air was thick with the weight of history, the whispers of lives extinguished leaving an indelible mark. Within this bleakness, Rick's discovery of keys held the promise of more exploration, a gateway to the heart of this fallen stronghold. They ventured deeper into the attached cell room, revealing rows of cells—each a prison within a prison. Some were still occupied. Trapped inmates turned walkers, confined and defeated, bore witness to the finality of their struggle. Astrid's breath caught as she looked upon such a horrific sight so overrun by death.
Maggie stood at her side, where they remained watchful as the men began to clear the cells. The room became a theater of purging, of releasing the specters that had once been human. Once the task was done and the dozens of bodies removed, Glenn ushered in the rest of their group from the yard.
"Home sweet home," Astrid greeted. Her hand found its way to Carl's unruly hair as he walked past, and a moment later, Lori joined her side, cradling her stomach in a protective manner.
Lori looked around. "It's secure?" She questioned in disbelief.
From further within the cell block, Rick bore a small smile as he looked upon his ex-wife. "This cell block is," He answered.
Astrid was inwardly relieved to see Rick and Lori engaged in conversation—a frayed connection that clung tenaciously, even in the aftermath of their shattered marriage. The couple had lost their way after the fall of the farm. The tendrils of Lori's revealed affair with Shane had fractured the foundation of their relationship, and the revelation of her pregnancy—the baby fathered by Shane—had only strained their bond. New life, once a beacon of hope, had merely become entwined with guilt and mistakes. Now, Rick and Lori often navigated their days like strangers caught in a fractured dance.
Despite the rift, fragments of their former connection still lingered—a transient spark that whispered of what once was. They no longer shared a bed or a table, or even a kiss, their once intimate moments replaced by a dissonance that refused to fade. Yet, in the midst of their separation, stolen smiles and fleeting moments of touch proved that beneath the rubble, a fragile thread of their love persisted.
"What about the rest of the prison?" Hershel asked, pulling Astrid from her thoughts.
"In the morning, we'll find the cafeteria and infirmary."
Beth's discomfort was direct. "So, we just sleep in the cells?" She asked as her soft blue eyes lingered on one whose walls were stained with blood.
Rick nodded. Then he held up his pair of collected keys. "I found these on some guards," He added. "Daryl has a set, too."
"Yeah, but I ain't sleepin' in no cage," Daryl asserted from the catwalk above. Astrid cast her attention upward, observing her hunter as he hauled a mattress from a nearby cell, and cast it down on the open walkway by the stairs. He plopped onto it and settled in. "Astrid and I will take the perch," He proclaimed.
After that, their companions dispersed, spreading out to select their own cells. Yet, Astrid remained, allowing the weight of the moment to unfurl around her gradually. The beautiful silence caressed her, a rare respite from the whirlwind of their otherwise daily chaotic lives. Perhaps she would finally get more time like this—to just breathe, reflect, and recalibrate.
Finally, Astrid broke away. Ascending the stairs, her eyes alighted on Daryl—his posture relaxed, his hands behind his head while his poncho obscured his features. A smile played on her lips as she approached with a conspiratorial grace. A playful leap brought her to straddle his waist, her fingers deftly lifting his poncho to reveal the depths of his gaze, dark blue orbs that held her captive.
"Hi," Astrid whispered.
Daryl chuckled as his hands moved to hold her thighs. "You comfortable?" He jested.
"Oh, definitely," She teased.
Their bodies shifted, his arms enfolding her as he guided her to lay down beside him on the narrow mattress. The tenderness in his touch, the gentle stroke of her cheek, suspended in the space between them. Silent interludes melded them together as they looked into each other's eyes, icy blue and forest green becoming their own anchor in a fractured world.
Astrid brushed her hair aside, the motion accompanied by Daryl's soft, nearly hidden smile, words unsaid yet hanging between them. "You look good," He said.
Astrid playfully scoffed, fingers absently ridding her cheek of residual grime. "Yeah, walker blood really makes me glow," She retorted with a wry twist. Her attention then locked back onto Daryl, a glint dancing in her eyes. "You know, I think you look pretty cool, too," She added with an impish grin. However, her light-hearted comment elicited an unexpected response. Her hunter's lips curled into a subtle smirk, leaving Astrid's brows furrowed in puzzled surprise. Had she unintentionally stumbled upon a hidden joke? "What?" She inquired, her curiosity piqued.
Daryl's hesitation hung in the air for a moment. Finally, he broke his silence. "Nothin'," He muttered, a hint of mischief lurking in his voice.
Astrid's confusion only deepened, and her bewilderment manifested in a light whack to Daryl's chest. "Daryl," She pressed.
His smirk, if possible, grew more pronounced. He would never reveal his secret. "Jus' haven't had someone call me that in a while. That's all," He finally relented, his admission only serving to further bewilder Astrid. Her skepticism was palpable as she scoffed again, her expression questioning his cryptic response. Undeterred, Daryl leaned in closer, his words shifting the focus. "We should get some sleep," He decided. "We're goin' to have a big day tomorrow."
Astrid's coy grin suddenly returned. "No way. Are you actually giving me permission to scope out the prison with you?" She asked. She decided it was her turn to annoy him.
Daryl's retort carried a blend of exasperation and fondness. "Well, you never listen to me anyway, so I'm givin' up," He sighed.
"About time," Astrid hummed.
Daryl's lips curved into a snicker on shoulder. "You're just too much of a stubborn ass," He bantered back. "Besides, I could use someone who don't always drive me insane."
Astrid's laughter rang out, a genuine expression of her delight, followed by a gentle shove that brought them both back down to earth. "I know you don't think that. These people are our family," She reminded him with heartfelt conviction. As the silence of the cellblock continued to envelop them, her gaze never strayed from her hunter as she whispered, "You're my family."
Daryl's fingers danced lightly over her arm. "You're my family, too," He murmured in response. "Now go to sleep," He added.
Astrid slowly turned back around as she let the pull of her muscles sink her deeper into the mattress. Quiet settled in. But then, Astrid's voice broke the stillness, her words carrying an air of curiosity that could not be suppressed. "Daryl?" She called.
A soft, noncommittal grunt escaped him, a mere 'hmm' that barely invited further conversation.
"You said I don't always drive you insane," Astrid pointed out, her tone playful yet probing. "Did you mean that?"
"Don't make me regret it."
Astrid smiled cheekily, even though he could not see it. "You're so romantic," She teased.
Daryl scoffed, a trace of shyness underscoring the sound. Astrid cherished this rare glimpse of her hunter. "Shut up," He chuckled.
Drawing her back into him, Daryl's arms encircled her waist, pulling her close to his chest. His face found its home in the crook of her shoulder, his lips brushing against her skin in a tender, intimate kiss before a tired sigh escaped him. A pull of Daryl's poncho covered them, and Astrid's gaze swept over the prison for a final time, eyeing the faint scars of struggle now etched into its very foundation. Yet, within those imperfections, she saw the potential for renewal.
Astrid nestled against Daryl's hold, surrendering herself to the embrace of dreams. As her eyes fluttered closed, the tendrils of sleep reached out, finally pulling her into the deep, dark waters of sleep.
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