What Really Happened: A Memoir from the Apocalypse

Chapter 11: Reconciliation

The white chalk dusted my fingers as I wrote "one month" and the three days Judith's birthday could've been on the wall of Rick's cell.

Dad walked through the door. "I'm going out for a while. I'll be back soon."

"Where?" I asked. "Woodbury?"

"Not Woodbury. Just out."

"I can go with you."

"No. You need to stay here and help defend this place, that's more important right now."

Ever since he returned from being held hostage at Woodbury, he lost a bit of the optimism he's been holding onto since the start. I knew he was holding something back.

"Dad, what happened there?"

He grinned. "Be safe. I love you."

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After I rocked Judith to sleep, I laid my clothes into my drawer as slowly as I could, trying not to wake her. An explosion sounded from outside. I yanked my gun off of my dresser.

Mom ran to my cell, picked Judith up from the box she slept in, and placed her under the bunk. She grabbed my shoulders and bowed to my level. "Remember everything we've taught you. Aim your gun and don't let go of it. It's time."

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I stood next to Carl, behind the wall. Gunshots went off from both sides, one after the other. Carl made most of the shots, aiming for the guard tower. A man from Woodbury was inside it, shooting back at us. I stepped in front of Carl to make the shots he couldn't and backed away quickly enough to not get hit. I turned to Mom, who ducked behind the small cabinet feet ahead.

"Mom!" I yelled.

Carol moved in front of me and knelt with her gun. "Mallory, pay attention over here."

The gunshots from the enemy's side stopped. Carl stood silently as he waited for more of them.

A van broke the gate as it zoomed through it and stopped in the middle of the field. My panic was a weight in my chest. I thought about how a bomb would've been able to travel in it. I imagined the Governor, somehow charming, but behind his facade, he was destructive, twisted, and deformed, even if we were the only ones who could see it. I imagined him willing, and prepared, to shoot all of us dead within a split second. The van's ladder banged against the grass. The dead walked out of the back, few at a time, too many to count. The driver, riot gear protecting his entire body, walked out. We unsuccessfully shot at him, until he got away.

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After the attack:

The group met in the main part of the prison to make a plan. Daryl returned, but brought Merle, the untrustworthy and dangerous asshole that he was, with him. Being on the other side of the fence, they helped during the battle. Merle was locked in a cell behind us.

"We're not leaving," Rick said.

"We can't stay here," Grandpa said.