Unknowingly, time quickly passed by.
It has been almost two weeks since I put a bullet in the head of the Governor and a week since we returned back from our second trip to Woodbury.
Three days after the Governor's execution, we held a meeting to decide the delegation that would be going to Woodbury to properly discuss our alliance.
The members who were elected were me, Rick, Morgan, Daryl, and, to my surprise, Hershel.
I guess he wanted to put his mind at ease after the whole Governor execution debacle, and by God, it worked wonders seeing how relaxed he was after we returned.
Anyways, after the delegation was decided, next was preparing the three Woodbury prisoners for transport and drafting the treaty—the latter we spent most of the next day wracking our brains to write it up.
It certainly wasn't the finished treaty, not by a long shot, but it was enough of a foundation to build on when we got to Woodbury.
And that we did.
The terms we agreed on were as follows:
Article I: Sovereignty and Independence
Section 1.1: Both the farmhouse and Woodbury shall retain absolute autonomous self-governance, independent internal law enforcement, and separate leadership councils.
Section 1.2: Neither community shall interfere in the internal civil affairs, judicial processes, or leadership selection of the other.
Article II: Non-Aggression and Dispute Resolution
Section 2.1: A strict pact of non-aggression is established. Any past grievances, casualties, or property damage sustained under the previous administration of Philip Blake are declared null, void, and forgiven.
Section 2.2: A Joint Arbitration Council consisting of two delegates from the farmhouse (designated by Zephyr Ward) and two delegates from Woodbury (elected by the Woodbury Town Council) shall convene bi-weekly to resolve any future disputes peacefully.
Article III: Resource Sharing and Trade
Section 3.1: A bi-weekly open market shall be established at a neutral checkpoint midway between both locations to facilitate the regular exchange of goods.
Section 3.2: The farmhouse agrees to supply surplus agricultural produce, meat produce, dairy produce, and medicinal herbs from the fields and livestock pens.
Section 3.3: Woodbury agrees to supply refined medical supplies, manufactured goods, generator fuel, scavenged electronics, tools, and technical craftsmanship from Woodbury's workshops.
Article IV: Mutual Defense and Security
Section 4.1: If either community faces an external threat—including hostile human groups or overwhelming walker herds—the unaffected party is obligated to dispatch a rapid-response security unit within two hours of notification.
Section 4.2: A combined Early Warning Reconnaissance Network shall be maintained, sharing intel regarding scavenger movements and herd migrations within a 30-mile radius.
Article V: Population Mobility and Integration
Section 5.1: Safe passage is granted to accredited couriers, traders, and medical personnel traveling the trade route between the two sanctuaries.
Section 5.2: Citizens of either community possessing specialized skills may apply for temporary cross-community work details, subject to background vetting by both community leaders.
Section 5.3: Voluntary relocation of non-combatant civilians between Woodbury and the farmhouse is permitted, provided both councils approve the transfer.
Article VI: Ratification and Term
Section 6.1: This treaty takes effect immediately upon signature by Zephyr Ward on behalf of the farmhouse collective and the newly elected Head Councilman of Woodbury.
Section 6.2: The treaty shall undergo formal review every six months to adjust resource quotas and defense terms.
Markus, the new head of Woodbury's town council, and I read through the pages carefully before we looked at each other, nodded, and signed our names on the dotted lines.
Me and Markus shook hands upon coming to an agreement, and that marked a brand new page in our two settlements' relationship.
After that, we were invited to stay for the night for a celebration.
We agreed. The Woodbury folks put together a small street dinner with music, hot food, and cold drinks.
It was pretty low-key, but you could tell people were just glad the fear was gone.
Hershel even sat out on a bench chatting with some of their older folks, finally getting the full picture from the residents here.
The next day, we said our farewells, and soon we were on our way home.
That led right into the meeting we just wrapped up in the meeting room.
I stood at the head of the long wooden table, watching the group settle into their seats.
Shane was leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, while Rick, Daryl, Morgan, Hershel, and the rest sat around the table with map printouts spread across the wooden table.
"Now that Woodbury is squared away, we need to talk expansion," I said, tapping my index finger onto a red circle drawn on the county map. "We've got the farm walled up, but our population is growing. We need a secondary site somewhere fortified, high-walled, and built to last."
Rick leaned over, squinting at the map. "You mean the West Georgia Correctional Facility?"
"Bingo," I said.
"A prison," Shane muttered, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Sturdy fences, guard towers, cell blocks made of solid concrete. You could lock the yard down and keep an army out if you had to."
"It's about fifteen miles west of here," I explained. "Close enough to be viable."
Looking around the room, I continued, "The place is probably packed with walkers inside the courtyard, but the structure itself is intact. If we clear it out, we don't just get a backup stronghold—we get an outpost that controls the whole western approach to the farm."
"Clearing a prison ain't like clearing a house, Zephyr," Daryl pointed out, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Those corridors are tight and dark. One wrong turn and you're backed into a corner with nowhere to run."
"Which is why we're doing it methodical," I said. "We clear the outer yard first, lock the gates behind us, and secure the perimeter before we even touch the cell blocks. Once the yard is clear, we start clearing the place block by block, slowly and carefully."
Hershel looked at the map, running a hand over his beard. "It's a big undertaking, son, but if Woodbury is holding the east and we hold the prison to the west, this whole place becomes a hell of a lot safer for everyone."
"That's the idea," I said.
Rick looked up from the table, meeting my eyes with a firm nod. "When do we move?"
"Glenn and Daryl will scout the place out tomorrow morning at first light," I said, looking at Glenn and Daryl, who nodded in return. "They'll map the entry points, check the fence integrity, and see how bad the walker situation is in the main yard. If it looks manageable, we bring the rest of the heavy hitters in by afternoon."
Nobody objected. The group just nodded, and with that, the plan was finalized.
"Meeting's over," I said, clapping my hands together once. "Get your gear prepped tonight. We move tomorrow after the scouting team returns."
Everyone got up and headed out the room, clearing out fast as people went to check their weapons and pack their gear.
I walked out onto the porch, leaning against the wooden railing and looking out over the farm as the sun started to dip below the tree line.
With the Woodbury arc now over, it was time to move to something else: the prison.
(To be continued...)