The white chalk dusted my fingers as I wrote "one month" and the three days Judith's birthday could've been on the wall of Rick's cell.
Dad walked through the door. "I'm going out for a while. I'll be back soon."
"Where?" I asked. "Woodbury?"
"Not Woodbury. Just out."
"I can go with you."
"No. You need to stay here and help defend this place, that's more important right now."
Ever since he returned from being held hostage at Woodbury, he lost a bit of the optimism he's been holding onto since the start. I knew he was holding something back.
"Dad, what happened there?"
He grinned. "Be safe. I love you."
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After I rocked Judith to sleep, I laid my clothes into my drawer as slowly as I could, trying not to wake her. An explosion sounded from outside. I yanked my gun off of my dresser.
Mom ran to my cell, picked Judith up from the box she slept in, and placed her under the bunk. She grabbed my shoulders and bowed to my level. "Remember everything we've taught you. Aim your gun and don't let go of it. It's time."
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I stood next to Carl, behind the wall. Gunshots went off from both sides, one after the other. Carl made most of the shots, aiming for the guard tower. A man from Woodbury was inside it, shooting back at us. I stepped in front of Carl to make the shots he couldn't and backed away quickly enough to not get hit. I turned to Mom, who ducked behind the small cabinet feet ahead.
"Mom!" I yelled.
Carol moved in front of me and knelt with her gun. "Mallory, pay attention over here."
The gunshots from the enemy's side stopped. Carl stood silently as he waited for more of them.
A van broke the gate as it zoomed through it and stopped in the middle of the field. My panic was a weight in my chest. I thought about how a bomb would've been able to travel in it. I imagined the Governor, somehow charming, but behind his facade, he was destructive, twisted, and deformed, even if we were the only ones who could see it. I imagined him willing, and prepared, to shoot all of us dead within a split second. The van's ladder banged against the grass. The dead walked out of the back, few at a time, too many to count. The driver, riot gear protecting his entire body, walked out. We unsuccessfully shot at him, until he got away.
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After the attack:
The group met in the main part of the prison to make a plan. Daryl returned, but brought Merle, the untrustworthy and dangerous asshole that he was, with him. Being on the other side of the fence, they helped during the battle. Merle was locked in a cell behind us.
"We're not leaving," Rick said.
"We can't stay here," Grandpa said.
Mom reloaded her pistol. "What if there's another sniper? A wood pallet won't stop one of those rounds."
"We can't even go outside," Aunt Beth said.
"Rick says we're not running, we're not running," Dad said.
"No. Better to live like rats," Merle said. His voice was scratchy, like a chain smoker's.
"You got a better idea?" Rick asked him.
"We should have slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn't we? I'm sure he's got scouts on every road out of this place by now."
Daryl paced upstairs. "We ain't scared of that prick."
"Y'all should be. That truck through the fence thing, that's just him ringing the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he's got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes high ground around this place, shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to."
"Let's put him in the other cell block," Mom said.
"No. He's got a point," Daryl said.
"This is all you," she said. "You started this."
Aunt Beth walked down the stairs. "What difference whose fault it is? What do we do?"
"I said we should leave. Now Axel's dead. We can't just sit here," Grandpa said.
Rick walked away.
"GET BACK HERE!" Grandpa walked over to him. "You're slipping, Rick. We've all seen it. We understand why. But now is not the time. You once said this isn't a democracy. Now you have to own up to that. I put my family's life in your hands. So get your head clear and do something."
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I entered Daryl's cell. "Merle hurt my parents. He can hurt more of us, too. Why are you letting him stay here?"
He rewrapped the wound on his arm. "It's either we both leave or we both stay."
"Why?"
"If Andrea was here, would you want her to leave?"
"I haven't gone after her. I understand she chose the wrong side. That she's not good for the group or me. I accepted that."
"He's my brother. I've gotta stick with him, through the rough times too."
Carl rushed through the door. "Andrea's here!"
"Speak of the devil," Daryl said.
I walked to the entryway. Everyone prepared their guns.
"Stay here," Rick told me. "Watch the baby."
"Are you gonna shoot her?" I asked.
"It's just a precaution."
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Andrea entered through the door. She froze when she saw me, and put her hand to her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. "Mallory..." She walked over to hug me.
I turned to my side, rejecting. "No. Why'd you leave? Why are you with him?"
Mom grabbed my shoulder to bring me back, and lead me to my cell.
"I'm so sorry," Andrea said as I walked away. "For everything, I am."
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I laid on my bed and played with my hands, laying them against the bottom of the top bunk, and listened to the argument.
"The time to plead for forgiveness would've been months ago," Mom said.
"We stepped in because you didn't," Dad said. "You had every reason to. And now you chose the man who's trying to kill us over her. You found out we were at the prison days ago. You haven't exactly rushed to get here."
"I got here as fast as I could. You have no idea how happy I was when I found out she was alive. I thought she was dead and tried to have some kind of life. Now I'm being blamed for that?" Andrea asked.
"We knew who you were before this. At the farm, we could see it," Mom said.
"And what does that mean? Who am I, Maggie?" Her voice cracked. "I'm trying to fix this."
"You won't."
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Andrea stood beside my door. I tried to find the words to say.
"You're going back? You're not staying?" I asked.
"I don't think things look good enough for me to stay right now."
"You can fix things with us. But you can't fix things with the Governor. He's trying to kill us, trying to hurt us, and he won't stop. You know that, and you're still going back."
"You know I don't wanna leave, right? You're the most important thing to me. I know, trust me, I know it didn't always seem that way, but you always have been. I'm gonna do the best that I can. I'm gonna try to make it so we all win, so neither one of us loses."
"That's not gonna happen. We're losing. We already have, and we still will. He killed Axel, one of our friends. When he finds out you're on both sides, he might try to kill you too."
"I believe it can work. And I'm believing that for you. I'm trying to do what's right for you. I can't give up on that."
"When something goes wrong, don't say we didn't tell you so."
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The next day, Rick, Daryl, and my Grandpa went to Woodbury to meet with the Governor and try to compromise. The Governor told Rick that he wants to take the prison. That he wants us gone, dead. That he doesn't care if he kills us, that he wants to.
I sat at the table and loaded my pistol, preparing for the war. Mom pulled out a chair across from me.
"Do we have the strength to win this? Do we have more people than they do?" I asked her.
She folded her hands and exhaled. "You know if you were ever in any danger, your dad and I would get rid of that danger, right? No matter what it was."
"We survived seven months on the road," I said. "We starved and slept on dirt, but we all made it. How many of us have died since we got here? We tried to make this into a home, and it was. But it can't be. Not like this."
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When survivors from Woodbury planned on coming back to attack, we split into groups. One to stay at the prison and fight them off, ambush them. One to go to Woodbury, in case they got away. Not trusted with any other responsibility, I was assigned to stay on watch.
Judith laid in the backseat of the car. I stood between Carl, my aunt, and Grandpa, as gunshots sounded from the prison.
A teenager ran through the woods, fleeing the scene of the battle. He stopped right in front of us, and we aimed our guns at him.
He put his hands up. "Woah, woah, woah. Don't shoot."
"Drop the weapon, son," Grandpa said.
"Sure." He handed the gun over. "Here, take it."
We didn't move our guns. My gaze was stuck on him. Carl pulled the trigger, and a bullet knocked him down.
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The fighters at the prison, including my parents, made the people from Woodbury retreat. After we walked through the entrance of the prison, my parents rushed to us.
"What happened out there?" Dad asked.
I didn't want to tell them, so they looked to Grandpa to answer.
"A boy from Woodbury ran up to us. He surrendered, but her and Carl didn't put their guns down. Carl shot him. She pat him on the shoulder and said she would've done the same thing."
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We stood outside to greet the group that went to Woodbury. An entire bus pulled in, that was filled with the town's residents. Carl and I walked to Rick.
"What is this?" Carl asked him.
"They're gonna join us," Rick said.
I looked at the survivors that were being led out of the bus. "Andrea?"
Rick bowed his head. Tears formed in my eyes, and I realized.
Carl followed me to the corner in front of the gate. The blooming lily flower's pedals, freckled with yellow dots, curved out at the tops, like a cup opening itself for pollen. It hung over the bottom of the pot, just beginning to bloom. Through my tears, I smiled.