Sleeping Monster

"Why do I need this? When I got this?" the leader of the group of inmates said, waving his gun around in the air and throwing the weapons we supplied for them back down on the table. I've come to learn that his name is Tomas, although the other men rarely called him that. They seemed to be too scared to ever call on him or question him.

We were about to hold up our end of the bargain after we retrieved the food they had stashed away in their cantina. They claimed they only had a little left, but us taking half managed to stock us up for at least a couple of months with our rationing. Now, all we had to do was clear out their own cell block so we could get them out of our hair.

"You don't fire guns, not unless yer back's up against a wall," Daryl spoke calmly, "the noise attracts 'em, really rattles them up."

We pretty much had to teach them everything they needed to know before we headed back into the tunnels. If we didn't they could be a major factor in us making it back out alive.

"We'll go in two by two," Rick explained, "Daryl will run point with Scar, I'll bring up the rear with T. The rest of you will be in the middle of us. Stay tight in formation no matter how close the walkers get. Anyone breaks rank we could all go down, anyone runs off they could get mistaken for a walker and end up with an ax to the head."

"And that's where you aim, these things only go down with a headshot," I spoke up.

As soon as I did, Tomas cut me off, "You ain't gotta tell us how to take out a man," he scoffed, looking to his minion, Andrew. The small and feisty one.

"They aren't men, they're something else," I clarified with him.

"Just remember to go for the brain," Rick said before grabbing the keys and heading for the door.

------

We were well into the tunnels now and hadn't come across any walkers yet. This was good information for our group too, knowing that there were no walkers venturing too close to our cell block.

"Man, it's too damn dark in here," Oscar said, you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was scared.

Daryl looked back at him, "Hold that up higher, you want it had head level," he said, referring to Oscar's ax.

We walked slowly, staying tight in formation around the corners when we finally spotted the shadow of a walker rounding the corner down the hall.

"It's comin'," Axel immediately yelled out, blowing our cover. We all collectively shushed him, getting to this cell block with the inmates were going to be harder than I thought.

The walker's gurgles echo through the hall as it rounded the corner, followed by a friend behind him. Daryl and I raised our hands to hold the inmates in place, they needed to wait for our signal for the walkers to get close enough before we could take them down.

All of a sudden the group of inmates pushed past us, shouting as they charged at the two walkers. We stood back as we watched them. The five of them attacked the walkers, holding them by the arms and repeatedly hitting them in the stomach and chest with their weapons. It was like they disregarded anything we had told them.

I looked at Rick and he glanced back at me, pissed off. These inmates were going to get us all killed in here. They were exerting all their energy stomping, punching, stabbing, and kicking the walkers to no end. They were acting like they were humans, not understanding that all it took was one blow to the head.

Daryl finally stepped in and shot both the walkers in the head with his crossbow, finally killing them.

"Not the body, the head," he scolded them, yanking his arrows from the walker's skulls.

All the noise the inmates had made drew more walkers in our direction, a small herd stumbling up to us.

"Stay in the formation, no more prison riot crap," Rick spat as he stepped forward, lodged his machete in the first walker's forehead, and stepped back in the circle again. Axel finally followed his direction, taking the second walker out the correct way and stepping back again.

Once they realized we were right, the inmates fell into an assembly that took out the herd of walkers quite efficiently. They each stepped forward, nailed a walker closest to them, and stepped back again.

I was just taking out the final walker with my crowbar when a loud shout came from behind the group. I turned to see Big Tiny, one of the inmates, pressed up against the wall. Two walkers crowded him, one of them had the bone of its wrist hooked in Big Tiny's shoulder blade from where it's hand had been rotted off.

Rick acted the quickest, stabbing his machete threw one of the walker's head before Tomas raised his gun, shooting the walker that had a hold of Big Tiny three times before he hit its brain.

Rick turned to him, staring him down, in disbelief with his recklessness. Tomas glared back at him, each trying to assert dominance. Tomas continued to be dangerous to us and I could tell what Rick was thinking. He, along with the rest of us didn't trust him in the slightest.

Big Tiny reached for his shoulder to check for a puncture wound before bringing his hand forward to see it smeared with blood. His face was in shock as drops of sweat dripped from his forehead in freight. We all knew what this meant. The virus would already be setting in and the wound was in a place we could not access.

Rick turned him around, shining his flashlight on the wound. He sighed as he examined it.

"I'm telling you, I don't feel anything, it's just a scratch," Big Tiny reasoned like he was trying to make us feel better about it. I don't think he fully understood that even a scratch resulted in his untimely death.

"I'm sorry, man-"

"I can keep fightin'!" he raised his voice.

"You cut that old guy's leg off to save his life?" Andrew said, confused as to why Rick wasn't doing the same to help them.

"Look where the scratch is, how you gonna cut that off?" I defended Rick.

"Guys, I'm fine!" Big Tiny yelled again, "Just- I'm fine," he now lowered his voice, trying to convince Rick, "look at me, I'm not changing into one of those things."

"Look man there has to be something we can do? Maybe we can just lock him up?" Oscar suggested.

"Quarantine him, we gotta do somethin'," Axel also stood up for his friend.

"Why you just standin' there, we gotta save him!" Andrew began to get angry.

"There's nothing we can do," Rick spoke calmly.

"You son of a bitch-"

Within a blink of an eye, the problem was solved in the least humane way possible. Before we had time to react to what was happening, Tomas whacked Big Tiny over the back of the head with his weapon. Big Tiny hit the ground and I jumped back as Tomas stood over him, smashing in his skull with one strike after another. Big Tiny's blood-splattered up against the walls, on the lower half of my body, and coated Tomas's face.

Tomas looked up at Rick, panting heavily. His greasy black hair dripped with his friend's blood, sticking to his face. Daryl looked over at me, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from Tomas's reach. One problem was solved, but we had a way worse one on our hands.