Chapter 16

My eyes opened just as the first light of dawn crept through the window. Didn't matter where I was—field, trench, safe house, or here in this too-perfect neighborhood—my body always knew when to wake. Years of training, years of war, they'd set an internal clock I couldn't shake even if I wanted to.

Waking up early meant you were alive. Gave you time to think, to prepare, to be ready before the world kicked off. And in a place like this? A place this quiet? It put me on edge.

I sat up, rolling my shoulders, muscles still stiff from sleeping on the floor. Most of the group was still out, scattered across the living room in various states of exhaustion. Couldn't blame them. A proper roof, no walkers scratching at the doors—it was the first real rest they'd had in a long while.

Didn't mean I trusted it.

I got to my feet and made my way to the door, stepping out onto the front porch.

Rick was already there, sitting on the steps, staring at nothing in particular. The look in his eyes was one I recognized all too well.

"Did you sleep much?" I asked, stepping beside him.

He let out a breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Tried."

Didn't have to say more.

"Sleep's a weapon, mate," I told him. "Lose too much of it, and it'll kill you just as fast as a bullet. You've got people relying on you—you run yourself into the ground, you're no good to anyone."

Rick didn't respond right away, just nodded slowly, like he knew I was right but wasn't quite ready to take the advice.

Didn't expect him to. A man like him—he'd sleep when he had no other choice.

One by one, the others joined us. Carol first. Daryl next, looking like he'd slept even less than Rick. Then came Maggie, Abraham, Darius, Elijah, and Michonne, each taking a spot on the porch, each carrying their own thoughts about this place.

We started talking about Alexandria. About how untouched it was. How impossible it seemed that a place could have lasted this long without the dead—or something worse—tearing it apart.

Elijah, the engineer of the group, was the first to comment on the walls. "They did a good job with the setup. Got the chance to inspect them yesterday—steel panels, reinforced at the joints. Structurally? They're solid."

Abraham scoffed. "Yeah, maybe against the dead. But I'll bet my last drop of whiskey these people haven't seen a real fight."

Daryl nodded. "Those walls will hold… until someone decides to break 'em."

Rick and I exchanged a glance. We both knew the truth—walls didn't mean safety. People did. And these people? They hadn't bled for this place yet.

"They'll crumble just the same," I said finally. "Same as the ones inside."

Michonne frowned. "We can change that. We can help them protect this place. If we're here, we make it stronger."

Maggie nodded. "They need us."

Then the talk turned to something else. A future. A life.

For the first time in a long while, they spoke about more than just surviving. About Judith growing up here. About the kids having something close to normal.

Carol and Darius agreed, but I could see the same concern in their eyes that I had in mine.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "This place is defenseless."

They all looked at me.

"No sentries posted around the walls except for the front gate. That's bad. Bloody real bad." I shook my head. "Any idiot with a rifle and a mean streak could take this place in a night."

Rick frowned, considering that.

"They need guards on every corner," I continued. "Rotating patrols, a watchtower, fallback points if the walls are breached. And they need to know how to fight. Because if they don't, they're all dead the second trouble comes knocking."

Silence followed.

Then I straightened. "I'll take a walk. See the place for myself."

Rick gave a nod. "Keep your eyes open."

Always.

I moved through the streets, taking in every little detail. The way the houses lined up, the way the roads twisted—where you could get ambushed, where you could get trapped.

The people watched me as I passed. Some cautious. Some curious. Most of them had probably never seen me around the place before

First stop was the wall. I walked the perimeter, running my hand over the metal. Strong, just like Elijah said. But high walls only worked if you had people willing to hold them.

That's what worried me.

Near the gardens, I spotted a young woman working with crops. Tobin, an older man with broad shoulders, was stacking supplies nearby.

"You're one of the new ones?" Tobin asked, pausing his work.

"Aye." I nodded. "Name's Price."

"Tobin," he said, offering a hand. I shook it.

"You've been here long?" I asked.

"Since the beginning," he said with a nod. "Worked on the walls, helped build a lot of what you see here."

"Good walls," I admitted. "But walls don't fight back."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… that's what I worry about too."

At least someone here was thinking ahead.

Further down, I came across Reg Monroe, Deanna's husband.

He was standing by a half-finished expansion to the wall, looking over some blueprints.

"Morning," I greeted, nodding toward the papers.

"Ah, you must be John Price," Reg said with a smile. "Deanna told me you had a sharp mind for strategy."

"More about staying alive, really," I muttered. "That's the real trick."

He chuckled. "You're not wrong. We've been discussing ways to improve our defenses. Maybe you'd have some input?"

I looked at the blueprints, then at the man himself. He meant well. But he wasn't a soldier.

"I'll take a proper look later," I said. "First, I need to see how things run around here."

Reg nodded. "Fair enough. Just… try to keep an open mind."

"Also there an engineer in our group, his name's Elijah" I said letting Reg know. Then Reg says that Deanne have told him about Elijah.

As I walked, I saw kids playing, people chatting like it was just another day.

It was strange.

This place felt like the old world. But that world was gone.

And they were fools if they thought it wasn't coming for them.

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I was still making my rounds, keeping my eyes on the walls, the roads, the people. Watching how this place ticked. How it breathed.

That's when I saw Rick.

He was moving fast, eyes scanning frantically, panic in every step.

Not good.

I ran toward him, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. "Rick, what's wrong?"

He turned to me, breath heavy. "Carl, Caleb, and Judith—I can't find them."

Shit.

Before either of us could bolt off in different directions, a woman approached—blonde, mid-30s, nervous but kind.

"I saw two boys," she said. "And a baby."

Rick snapped his head toward her. "Where?"

"Come with me."

We followed, moving fast but controlled. She led us to a nearby house, and there, sitting on the porch, were Carl, Caleb, and Judith.

Two elderly folks were fawning over Judith like she was the last baby on Earth.

Hell, maybe she was.

Rick exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, relief washing over his face.

"That's Bob and Natalie Miller," the woman—Jessie, she introduced herself—explained. "Before all this, they had five kids, twelve grandkids. They're just… happy to see a baby again."

Rick nodded, still trying to calm himself down.

Jessie gave a small smile. "Judith's going to get a lot of attention around here. Not many kids her age left."

I watched the old couple coo over the baby, and for a moment, I saw something different in this place. People clinging to the past, trying to live like the world hadn't burned. It was almost… peaceful.

Jessie continued, motioning toward a nearby house. "Carl and Caleb should meet Ron. He's about their age. Could be good for them."

Rick hesitated, but nodded. "We'll see."

"Also," she added, "breakfast will be at the community cafeteria in an hour. Might be a good idea to let your group know. And… we've got a few new people who just arrived before you. Deanna wants everyone to get to know each other."

Rick gave her a tight-lipped nod, still trying to shake the tension. "Thanks."

We grabbed Carl, Caleb, and Judith, making our way back to the house.

By the time we returned, everyone was up.

Rick let them know about breakfast at the cafeteria, and we all started heading that way together.

Seeing our group move through the streets like that—dozens of us, cautious, walking in a tight-knit formation—must've been a sight for the people here. We weren't like them. We weren't soft.

We were survivors.

And we didn't let our own out of sight.

The cafeteria was bigger than I expected.

Large space, clean, tables lined up in neat rows. Felt too damn organized for the world we lived in.

Deanna and Reg were already there to greet us.

"Eat first," Deanna said with a smile. "Introductions can come after."

Didn't have to tell me twice.

We sat down, taking in the sight of an actual meal. Nothing scavenged, nothing hunted. Proper food, cooked and prepared, like it was still the world we used to know.

"Food's served every morning," Reg explained. "Lunch and dinner, you can cook your own."

I took a bite, chewing slowly.

Not bad.

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Glenn's Pov

Breakfast was different. Maggie sat beside me, eating slow, thoughtful. I could tell she was weighing everything—the food, the people around us, the way this place felt too normal. She set her fork down, leaning in slightly.

"This is... weird," she murmured. "I mean, it's good. It's real food. But it almost feels like a dream, like we'll wake up and be back out there."

I nodded. She wasn't wrong. The food wasn't anything special—eggs, toast, some kind of sausage—but it was hot. And the fact that we weren't eating it off the hood of a car or huddled around a fire made it feel almost surreal. We weren't used to this. Didn't trust it yet.

I pushed my plate away, my mind drifting back to yesterday—my interview with Deanna. I told her that we needed to make this work, that we'd been out there too long. And I meant it. We were lucky to have survived this long, but luck runs out. Alexandria could be a future, not just another stop along the way. But that depended on whether this place was as real as it seemed.

Deanna stepped up to the front of the cafeteria, clearing her throat. The room quieted, all eyes on her.

"I know you've all noticed some new faces among us," she started, glancing around the room. "This community is built on trust, and I want to welcome our newest members properly."

She turned to the side, gesturing to three people near the front—Davidson's group. The man in front, Davidson, stood tall, arms crossed, wearing an expression that made it clear he wasn't interested in pleasantries. The other two, a guy with a sharp look in his eyes and a woman who seemed to be assessing the room, stayed close to him.

"These three joined us just before our latest group," Deanna continued, nodding in their direction. "Davidson, Elliot, and Riley."

A few polite nods, some murmurs from the crowd, but nothing more. Then Deanna turned to us.

"And now," she said with a warm smile, "let me introduce our newest—and largest—group."

We were so many compared to the three beside us. I saw people shifting in their seats, probably thinking the same thing. Could they handle this many outsiders at once?

I scanned the faces in the crowd—some curious, some hesitant, some just trying to read us. They didn't know what we'd been through. What we were capable of.

Deanna kept talking, welcoming us, making it clear that we were part of Alexandria now. Then she ended with an announcement.

"To celebrate our new members, we'll be having a small gathering later evening at my home. Just a chance for everyone to get to know each other better. Also my husband, Reg, and Denise, one of our physicians will give you a tour around alexandria for you all to be able to familiarize, today, after all of you are finished eating. "

A tour and a party. That was the last thing I expected to hear. I glanced at Maggie, who gave me a look—a mix of amusement and disbelief.

I can understand the need to tour us around the place but a party. After everything we'd been through. After Terminus. After our weeks long journey from Georgia to Virginia, and tge events that happened along the way.

This place really was different.

The question was... could we let our guard down enough to enjoy it?

Price's POV

I walked alongside Reg as he explained the ins and outs of Alexandria, his voice steady, full of that old-world optimism. He spoke about how the community was designed to be self-sustaining—solar power, water filtration, the whole damn package.

"The military set it up as a quarantine Safe Zone for politicians," he said. "They left. Never came back."

That part didn't surprise me. The government fell apart faster than anyone could've imagined. Whatever plans they had for Alexandria, they abandoned it like everything else.

"Deanna saw the potential," Reg continued. "She believed in rebuilding civilization. In keeping the best of who we were."

I just nodded, letting him talk. Who we were before doesn't matter much anymore. Only thing that does is who we are now.

Reg kept explaining, motioning toward different areas.

"The whole community covers about 15,816 square meters—roughly four acres. Think of it like three football fields."

I tried to picture it. Good size. Enough space to work with, but not too big to defend—yet.

"We're planning to expand," he added. "With more people, we can start growing real crops, maybe even keep livestock beyond just chickens."

I glanced at the open land beyond the walls. Expansion was a risk, but a necessary one.

As we passed the pond, Tyreese spoke up.

"You got fish in there?"

Reg nodded.

"Yeah, plenty," he said.

Bob chimed in, smirking. "Can we eat 'em?"

Denise, the community's doctor, answered instead. "Already have. The fish we ate at breakfast? Came straight from here."

I took a good look at the pond—roughly an acre in size, maybe four to five feet deep at its center. Plenty of room for a steady fish supply. If they kept it stocked, it'd be one hell of a resource.

Types of fish? Reg mentions bluegill, largemouth bass, and catfish. Common enough in ponds like this, easy to catch. Another point in Alexandria's favor.

Reg then pointed at the solar panels lined up near one of the houses.

"We've got ten medium-sized panels," he said.

I did some quick math in my head—each panel could generate about 300 watts in full sunlight. That meant roughly 3,000 watts total, or three kilowatts.

Enough to power lights, fridges, maybe a few small appliances, but not enough to run an entire town. If they were smart, they rationed electricity, using it only where needed.

"It's enough to keep things running," Reg added. "But we're careful about how we use it."

Smart.

We walked toward the outer wall, and Reg gestured up.

"Fifteen feet high. Steel panels, reinforced with construction materials from a shopping mall."

I ran a hand over the metal. Solid. But walls don't mean safety—not by themselves.

"These held up so far?" I asked.

Reg nodded. "We haven't had any major breaches."

I glanced at Rick and Abraham, who was off to the side, arms crossed, analyzing every inch. I already knew what he was thinking—walls only work if the people inside know how to defend them.

We moved next to the armory, then to the clinic. That's where I saw Dr. Holloway, and I could tell this place piqued his interest.

Denise, the doctor who'd spoken earlier, started explaining.

"We've got basic medical supplies, we can do minor surgeries, and Pete Anderson is our resident surgeon," she said. She smiled. "And now we've got Dr. Holloway too—two surgeons in one place. That's a miracle."

I looked at Holloway. He was quiet, listening. The kind of man who measures a place before deciding where he stands.

Doctors were rare. Good ones even rarer. Alexandria just got a whole lot stronger with him here.

Our last stop was the farm. Small, but enough to be useful.

They were growing tomatoes, squash, beans, and some fruit trees. Livestock? Just chickens for now. Not much, but a start. If they really wanted to be self-sustaining, they'd need cattle, goats, maybe pigs.

Reg clapped his hands together. "That's the tour. Dinner's later tonight. Someone will bring clothes for everyone."

With that, we started heading back.

As we approached our house, I caught Davidson's group returning to theirs.

Davidson, Elliot, and Riley.

Rick and Carol walks near me. They didn't like Davidson. Didn't trust him. The way he carried himself, the way he looked at people. He's the type of bastard that does not like to listen to others.

Yeah.

Something told me Davidson was going to be a problem.