❝last man standing doesn't matter when it's a pile of bodies you're standing on. so you fight but you be good.❞
[twd seasons 1-?]
Ⓒ 2019║asgxrdians i own nothing except lindsey and her plot
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chapter thirty four: the first attack 4136 words
The hellfire of lead rained down upon the prison meant only one thing. The Governor had found them and come to exact his revenge. On what, Lin didn't care to dwell on as she scrambled up the tower steps, near scraping her knees to the skin as she went. The Governor had side men, two of them from the sounds of it.
Lin kneeled beside the tower windows, behind the thin sheet of steel that acted as the only thing between her and a head full of metal. She breathed, counted to three and swung the door open, aimed blindly in the direction she knew the Governor to be in and fired. One round, two, then a third, as many times as she could before he spun on her. Sliding back into the room, she laid across the slope of the stairs, sparks of bullets colliding with steel showering over her. The steel would hold but the glass wouldn't and even then Lin was far from taking that chance. She went back out, fired some more, put as much ammo out into the air that she could before it was volleyed back her way.
Then, by some miracle, it stopped. The silence scared Lin, enough so she peeked out from the glass. The Governor was just standing there. What the hell was he doing? Lin lined up her shot and nearly took it right there. Until the Governor cocked his head just so and set his eyes on her. It was unnerving, the kind of look on a man Lin hoped to never see again. It frightened her, to put it simple.
The gunfire resumed with a few well placed shots at Lin's head. She ducked to the floor, unable to do much more than cower. And the Governor, the conniving bastard he was, just stood and watched. Lin shut her eyes, cowering and shaking as the glass of the tower shattered.
Hershel was still out in the yard, laid on his belly in the grass. Michonne and Rick were too, hidden respectively behind the overturned school bus and under a tiny walkway over a narrow creek outside the fence. When the gunfire let up, the assault rifle overheating to the point of nearly misfiring, it let Lin stand and shrink back to the stairwell. Another bout of silence, broken only by the distant rumbling of an engine. The tower rattled as the front fence gave way, the red and white van slamming through it. Lin shivered in the silence, afraid of what she couldn't see.
It took an inward surge of confidence for her to push back up into the tower, to look out through the glass. The van was parked in the center of the field and Lin watched on in horror as the long ramp at the back of the van dropped down hard into the dirt and began to let dozens of walkers spill out. The front fences were near obliterated in the crash, chainlink bent and warp to the hood of the van.
They had people out in the yard, Hershel, Michonne. Lin fired once to break the glass of the window, pushed the barrel of the rifle through up to the scope and peered out of it. The driver of the van hurried out, pulling a pistol of their own to shoot at Michonne from there. The samurai was smart enough to hit the dirt and take cover. Lin followed the armor clad driver and with a twitch of her finger, sent a bullet through the protective helmet.
