Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀᴛʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ

Rick directs the first car to sit parallel against the fence, with Carol in the car, they use it as a blockade. A last precaution if it ever came down to it. "Alright, let's get the other cars in. We'll park 'em in the west entry of the yard."

Daryl nods, hands on his hips. "Good. Our vehicles camped out there look like a giant 'vacancy' sign."

"After that," Rick turns in a circle, eyeing the field for someone in specific. "We'll help Lucas in loading up those corpses so we can burn them. . . Where is he?"

Scratching at his chin and squinting past the sun's glare, Daryl tosses his hand in gesture towards the middle of the field.

Rick laughs.

Lucas is laying starfish a few meters away from the growing pile of dead bodies, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants.

"It's gonna be a long day. . ." T-Dog sighs.

Cupping a hand around his mouth, Daryl yells out, "Lucas!" 

"What?!"

A blanket of laughter follows the exhausted reply. But eventually, Lucas shoves himself onto his elbows and glances across at them.

"Go get Glenn 'n Maggie to help."

"Can't find 'em!"

Carol cocks her head, confused, and looks to the rest of them for help, "Where are they?"

"Up in the guard tower last I checked." Daryl covers his eyes in order to see said building.

Georgia heat is harsh on all of them, sweat sticking their shirts to their backs. The crickets can barely be heard over the moaning and groaning past the fences, but at least they weren't on the road again.

Rick's brows knit together and he shuffles to lean on his other foot, "Guard tower? They were just up there last night!"

Simultaneously, all heads swivel upwards. Stumbling over and wiping sweat from his forehead, Lucas tries to get a grasp of what they're looking at.

"Glenn!" Daryl calls out. After no reply, he adds, "Maggie!"

With a creak of the door, Glenn reveals himself first. He isn't wearing a shirt, first of all, and is hurriedly buttoning up his pants.

"Hey!" His voice is higher than ever, "What's up guys?"

Lucas ducks his head, pressing his lips together. But he doesn't hide the snort when the others join in, varying degrees of laughter taking up the field. Something they found rare to share these days.

Daryl, the menace, cups his hand around his mouth again to yell, "You comin'?"

". . .what?"

This only makes them laugh harder. Lucas clutches at T-Dog's shoulder in order to hold himself up.

"You comin'?" Daryl's smile is heard clearly in the tone of his voice, a breathy chuckle following. "Come on, we could use a hand!"

Lips parted in confusion, "Yeah, we'll be right down!" Glenn calls back, and disappears, breaking their amusement apart.

"Hey, Rick!"

Stopping in his path towards the dead walkers, Lucas turns around, T-Dog's warning tearing the smiles from all their faces. 

The prisoners are standing just outside their designated cell block. Something that was very clearly breaking Rick's negotiations.

Rick rests a hand against his holster and nods his head towards them, "Come with me." He orders his people. Then, close enough for the prisoners to hear, "That's close enough. We had an agreement."