Sydney Dixon

Chapter sixteen

Sydney's POV

I take a step back and watch the scene unfold around me. The group goes into panic as Rick and Glenn wheel in an unconscious Hershel on a table. Hershel is pale, bloody, and has one less limb than what he left with. His right leg is severed at the knee.

"Get him on the bed!" Rick shouts, pushing the table into Hershel's cell.

Before I can follow the rest of the group, Daryl grabs my arm and pulls me in the direction Rick came from.

"What's going on?" I ask. He ignores me, locking the cell behind us and moving towards a table.

Daryl shushes me, loading his crossbow and pointing it towards the doorway they emerged from minutes before. When I hear footsteps and murmurs growing louder, I also raise my handgun.

Five men wearing grey jumpsuits make their way out of the darkness, staring at us with threatening looks. They're prisoners, more survivors.

"That's far enough" Daryl warns them. They don't listen, but instead keep walking towards us.

"Cell block C. Cell 4-- that's mine gringo." The prisoner with long, black hair spits at us, "Let me in"

Daryl doesn't lower his crossbow, "Today's your lucky day, fellas. You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You're free to go"

"What you got going on in there?" The same prisoner asks. He seems to be the leader of the pack.

"That's none of your concern" I speak up, still pointing my gun in between his eyes.

"Don't be telling me what's my concern, little girl" The man pulls a gun from his waistband. This makes Daryl stand straight up and take a step in front of me.

A black man behind the leader shrugs, "Chill, man. Dudes leg is messed up. Besides, we're free now. Why are we still here?"

"The mans got a point" Daryl huffs

"Yeah, and I gotta check on my old lady." Another black man smirks

"A group of civilians breaking in to a prison you got no business being in-- got me thinking there ain't no place for us to go" Their leader speaks in a threatening tone.

Daryl moves closer to them, "Why don't you go find out?"

The man with blonde hair and a mustache tries to calm things down, "Maybe we'll just be going now."

"Hey, we ain't leaving."

T-dog runs out from behind a corner, where I didn't even know he was, and points his gun at their leader.

"You ain't coming in either" T-dog tells him. Now, they both have their guns pointed at each other.

"This is my house, my rules. I go where I please." The leader raises his voice.

They begin arguing back and forth on who's leaving and who's staying. I look back and forth between Daryl and the prisoners, waiting for the cue to pull my trigger.

I never get the cue, and the argument is silenced by Rick running to my side with a machete in his hand.

"Hey, everyone relax. There's no need for this." Rick calms them down, but no one lowers their weapons.