Inside the tank, the walls trembled with the moaning of the dead.
Outside, the horde pressed in like a living wave of death, filling the street from sidewalk to sidewalk.
Joe pulled the pin on the grenade.
"Get ready to run."
He climbed the hatch, eyes scanning the swarm. He spotted the densest cluster near a tangle of abandoned cars and let the grenade fly.
Thunk.
It bounced once. Twice.
BOOM.
The explosion ripped through the horde, sending bodies and shrapnel flying. Blood sprayed against the nearby buildings. The roar of the blast echoed for blocks.
Joe popped back out. "Now!"
Rick scrambled up and launched himself over the hatch.
They both jumped from the tank, landing hard. Rick rolled to his feet, already firing.
Joe landed harder, his bad leg taking the brunt of the fall. Pain tore through his thigh like fire. He staggered, almost collapsed, but forced himself up. Gritting his teeth, he raised his rifle and started picking off walkers.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Click.
Each shot was a perfect headshot. Joe released the M4 and let it hang freely, pulling his M9 and continued.
Rick reached him. "You good?"
Joe limped forward. "Move!"
They sprinted down the street, dodging wreckage and tearing through the thinning edge of the horde.
Walkers lunged from all directions, stumbling out from alleys and from behind cars. Joe and Rick moved with lethal rhythm, firing as they ran, dropping any corpse that got too close.
Up ahead, a figure waved from a narrow alley, a young man with a radio in one hand and a baseball cap on backwards.
"Over here!" he yelled.
Rick raised his gun, instincts kicking in. He aimed at the stranger, eyes narrowing.
"Woah! Not dead!" the kid shouted, voice urgent. "Let's go!"
Rick lowered the gun and followed quickly.
Glenn turned and bolted.
Halfway down, Glenn pointed to a fire escape hanging low next to a dumpster. "Up there!"
Glenn climbed fast, more agile than what would be expected.
Rick followed, slinging his rifle and grabbing the ladder.
Joe turned back toward the alley's mouth. Walkers were coming fast, stumbling over each other, tripping on bodies, but gaining.
He stepped forward.
"Go," he said.
Rick paused. "Joe."
"I'll be right behind you."
Rick disappeared up the ladder.
Joe turned and took a breath.
Three walkers closed in.
Then five.
He didn't run. He shot the walkers closing in.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Blood hit the bricks. Joe's shots were precise, no wasted bullets.
More were coming.
Joe grabbed the ladder and hauled himself up, groaning as pain ripped through his leg again.
Rick reached down, grabbed his arm, and pulled him the last few feet.
They climbed the last stretch in unison, boots slamming the rungs behind them just as the walkers clawed at the base below.
The entire hoard releasing moans and groan up at them.
Joe looked down and saw a lone walker trying to climb up, but eventually it failed.
The fire escape shook from the force pushing on the bottom. Glenn looked up at the next ladder and said, "On the bright side, it'll be thw fall that kills us."
Joe and Rick shot him a look. "What? I'm a glass half-full kind of guy." Then he proceeded to climb.
Finally reaching the roof, Glenn collapsed onto the ground from nerves, his back against the wall, chest heaving violently.
"Jesus," Glenn muttered. "That was too close."
Joe limped past him and leaned against the nearby vent, taking in a slow, controlled breath. Rick dropped beside Glenn, offering him a half-smile.
Glenn panted. "You two have a real flair for entrances."
"Thanks for the save," Joe said between breaths. "We owe you one."
"Damn right you do."
Rick asked after catching his breath, "Why'd you help us?"
Glen replied, " I guess... I just hope that if one day I'm that far down schitt's creek, someone would do the same for me."
They sat in silence for a moment after that, listening to the horde groan and shamble below.
Then Glenn stood, brushing off gravel and adjusting his backpack.
"Alright. No time to waste. This way."
---
Glenn led them through a rooftop access door, into the dim shell of an abandoned office building. Desks were overturned. Phones dead. Dust coating every surface like snowfall.
The building was silent except for the soft scuff of their boots on the tile.
"This used to be insurance or law or something boring," Glenn muttered. "Now it's just a shortcut." Glenn chuckled.
They moved carefully through empty halls, past cracked monitors and shattered coffee pots. Joe kept glancing at corners, clearing them instinctively. Rick followed, close and focused.
Eventually, Glenn led them to a broken side stairwell. They descended two flights, stepping out a side door onto another metal fire escape.
The alley below was narrow, and blocked at the far end by a yellow school bus lodged between the buildings.
Four walkers paced between the dumpsters and walls, groaning softly.
Glenn raised his walkie. "I'll call for"
Joe placed a hand over his.
"No need."
Rick was already pulling his knife.
Glenn blinked. "You guys sure?"
Joe gave him a dry look. "We'll handle it."
The two men climbed down quietly, dropping into the alley like shadows.
The walkers didn't even notice them, until it was too late.
Joe grabbed the first from behind, plunging his Ka-Bar deep into its skull, placing it gently on the ground to not draw the other walkers attention. Rick circled around and drove his blade through another's temple.
The last two turned just in time to meet the same fate. Quick, clean kills, with no tension. Blood pooled in the cracked pavement, no noticable noise.
Joe wiped his blade clean on one of the corpses' sleeves. Rick nodded to Glenn, who was still at the top of the fire escape.
"You coming?"
Glenn stared down at the bodies for a beat, then grinned.
"You two are terrifying."
He descended after them.
...
Glenn pressed the walkie-talkie to his mouth as the three of them approached a rusted steel door at the end of the alley.
"It's me. I've got two with me, open the door."
A crackling pause, then a soft reply.
"Copy that."
A loud clunk echoed from behind the door as a heavy bolt slid free. The metal creaked open, revealing a dim interior and nervous eyes behind it.
Glenn stepped inside first.
The others followed.
Rick and Joe entered a long, narrow corridor of what used to be the back of a department store with empty shelves, and faces peering from shadows. The atmosphere was tense. Suspicious. Protective.
Glenn was barely five steps in when a voice rang out.
"Glenn, what the hell?!"
A tall blonde woman surged forward, eyes wild. Andrea.
She shoved past Glenn, stormed up to Joe, and shoved a pistol against his face. Her finger on the trigger.
"We're dead!" she said harshly. "You brought them straight to us?! We're DEAD because of you!"
Rick instinctively reached for his revolver.
But Joe didn't flinch.
He just looked at her.
Cool. Calculating.
He slowly reached up, wrapped his hand around the pistol's frame and turned it slightly, pressing his thumb against the side.
Click.
"Your safety's on," he said flatly.
Andrea blinked.
Her expression cracked, shock first, then embarrassment. Around the room, people shifted uncomfortably. T-Dog looked away. Morales let out a short sigh. Jacqui winced.
Andrea lowered the gun, cheeks flushed. "I... I didn't know."
Joe handed it back, grip-first. "Now you do."
Glenn ran a hand over his face. "Jesus, Andrea."
Rick slowly let go of his revolver. His shoulders relaxed, but only slightly.
T-Dog stepped in, putting himself between them. "Alright, that's enough. They're not bit. They're not hostile. And if Glenn says they're good, they're good."
Glenn added, "Yup."
Andrea turned away, flustered, jaw tight.
Joe gave Rick a look that said not the first time I've had a gun in my face, then leaned against a support beam like it was just another Tuesday.
One by one, the rest of the group approached.
T-Dog offered a fist bump. "T."
"Rick," said the deputy, returning it.
"Jacqui," she said, giving Joe a once-over, but no judgment in her voice.
"Morales," the man beside her said. "You military?"
Joe nodded once.
"You carry yourself like it," Morales muttered. "Welcome to the frying pan."
Glenn clapped his hands. "Alright. Now that nobody's dead and the gun's been put away, maybe we calm dow nand figure out what the hell to do next?"
Rick nodded, looking around.
"What are you guys even doing here?" he asked. "What about the refugee center?"
Joe stood by the wall near the exit, eyes narrowed. He didn't speak, but he heard something. A faint, rhythmic banging. He kept it in mind.
Jacqui gave a dry, bitter laugh from across the room. "Refugee center? Right. I'm sure they got fresh biscuits waiting in the oven for us too."
Rick's face tightened. "You mean—"
T-Dog stepped in. "It's gone. Refugee center fell over a week ago. We tried to get there. Roadblocks. Smoke. We could hear the screaming before we even got close." Rick's face growing more grim as the words came out.
Glenn added, "The place lit up like a war zone. No rescue. No evac. Just bodies." Rick looked completely crestfallen.
The other noticed this and Andrea asked, "What's wrong?"
Joe responded as Rick couldn't, "His wife and son. We think they went to the refugee center."
Everyone cast pitying looks at Rick,T-dog and Glenn apologizing for being so harsh.
...
Joe's left the back atea, and his eyes flicked to the reinforced glass storefront at the far end of the department store. The others following him.
The sound he heard earlier grew louder now, thump… thump… thump.
He stepped forward.
Walkers. A dozen or more.
Their rotting faces pressed to the glass, fingers clawing at the cracks, leaving trails of dried blood on the surface.
"Won't last long," Joe said. Flat. Final.
Everyone quieted.
Then...
CRACK!
A sharp gunshot echoed from somewhere above.
Andrea's eyes widened. "Ugh... Dixon!"
She took off toward the metal stairs near the back.
The rest followed quickly.
---
They emerged onto the rooftop, the midday sun blazing hot and merciless. There, near the edge of the building, stood Merle Dixon, his shirt unbuttoned, sweat glistening, rifle in hand.
He fired another shot into the street, laughing as a walker crumpled. He swayed on his feet, jaw clenched tight, eyes glassy and dilated.
He was high.
"Hot damn, that one jiggled when it dropped," Merle chuckled.
T-Dog stepped forward, fists clenched. "Put the gun down, Merle."
Merle turned with a lazy spin. "Look what we got here. It's Mr. T and company." He sneered at Morales. "And what's this? A little United Nations meetup?"
Morales stepped in. "That's enough. You're gonna draw every walker in the city if you keep shooting."
"Oh now you wanna be in charge? Bad enough I got this nigger on my ass, now I'm taking orders from some taco bender! I don't think so!" Merle laughed, waving his rifle around.
T-dog snapped and tried to grab Merle, but he wasn't quick enough, Merle smacked him in the face with the butt of his rifle. His lip split and bleeding slowly.
Jacqui quickly knelt beside T-dog to check his condition.
Merle ignoring the downed T-dog said, "What we need is a real leader. Not a choir boy and his mute."
"You wanna throw hands again, boy?"
T-Dog groaned.
"That's what I thought."
He turned to the group, smug. "Now, like I said... what we need is..."
CRACK.
Joe's M4 rifle slammed into the back of Merle's head.
The redneck crumpled mid-sentence, dropping like a sack of bricks. Everyone stood stunned.
Rick blinked. "Joe…"
Joe stepped over Merle's unconscious body.
"He talks too much." Glenn chuckling.
Rick gave a slow nod, looking over at T-dog, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt. "Let's make sure he doesn't do that again."
They dragged Merle to a steel a/c pipe and Rick cuffed him tight.
As Merle groaned in his daze, T-Dog grabbed the sniper rifle from the ground. He looked down at the prone Dixon and spat on the rooftop next to him.
"Finally quiet now, huh!"
The rooftop went quiet again, the echoes of gunfire gone.