A New Home

The Battle- Change of Plan.

All you could hear was the ragged breathing of you and your companions, and the muffled wails of dead corpses traipsing right towards you. Your eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark, and you could make out the reception desk to your left and the stairs straight ahead. Your legs could no longer take your weight, and you crumpled to the floor in a heap, resting your head back against the coolness of the wall behind you. Daryl was crouching by the doors, catching his breath and peering cautiously out through the crack to make sure the walkers were still coming. The last thing you needed was for them to get bored of chasing after you and to go after everyone else. Alden was bent double and vomiting in the corner, pushing Gabriel away when he tried to console him. Everyone else was trying to recover, because in mere minutes the fight would be back on- and it would be more dangerous than ever.

Negan made his way over to you with his free hand outstretched, gesturing for you to stand.

"Up. Come on or you never will."

With a groan you pushed yourself up, grabbing your katana and using his arm for leverage. You were stood facing him, both of you panting heavily. He looked at you, concern written in every feature of his face. God, he's handsome, you thought.

"I told you, you could have left."

"Well, she didn't." Rosita spoke up, stepping forward a couple of paces. "And I'm glad she didn't. You're a good fighter, and you're proving your worth. Keep doing what you're doing."

She shot Negan a snide glance then turned away. He raised a comical eyebrow then turned back to you.

"Can't please them all I guess."

You smiled. "I guess not."

"You sure you're ok? I mean what happened..."

"I'm fine, honestly. Don't worry about it."

He looked at you questioningly but didn't press on the matter. You were relieved. How could you explain that you felt like someone had passed you your death sentence without having even met them? You shuddered at the thought then tried to mentally prep yourself for what was coming.

"Hey, some have broken off and are going around." Daryl rapidly snapped his fingers to get everyone's attention, and was now standing upright, hunting knife in hand.

"Open the doors. Let's do it."

Listening to Carol, Daryl's hand moved to open them, but he jumped back as soon as masses of hands begun banging loudly on the doors. Nails and teeth scraped awfully down the steel, making sharp grating noises that pierced your brain and made you cringe.

"Ah shit. They're coming in heavy man."

"We gotta open it now or the others will be killed!"

Rosita spoke with such urgency that without a second thought Gabriel had moved forward and pulled at the doors in one swift movement, opening the flood gates to hundreds of corpses, that spilled in like water from an open dam. You all instantaneously raised your weapons and began to strike down more bodies yet again. Someone shouted desperately over the conundrum, you didn't know who, warning you that "They won't all be walkers now! Watch out for weapons!", as you sliced through rotting flesh, spilling guts and putrid brown liquid onto the floor.

More and more walkers were streaming in, a never ending line of death that would just not give up. It was becoming overwhelming- the heat was suffocating, the stench intoxicating- and you realised they were beginning to cut you all off from eachother.

"Shit."

Panic began to creep its way into you as you looked around and realised that Rosita, Gabriel, Carol and Alden had become completely separated from the rest of you, being pushed down the left corridor and away from the stairs. You began an attempt to try and cut your way through to them, but it was useless. The wall of stinking flesh was too thick to pass through, and before you could get any further you were pulled back by the lioness, and ushered to the stairs.