"Jesus Christ!" T-Dog stared in disbelief.
"We… we're here?" Jacqui murmured, as if afraid speaking any louder might wake her from a dream.
For a brief moment, everything fell silent. Then excitement and cheers burst out, almost explosive.
"We made it. We really made it!" Glenn pulled Maggie into a tight embrace, both of them smiling with pure relief.
Beth covered her mouth, shaking Hershel's arm. "Dad, look! We're here! We finally have somewhere to go!"
A spark returned to Hershel's eyes.
He stared at the solid outline in the distance, lips trembling as he nodded heavily. His hunched back seemed to straighten just a little.
To him, those towering walls meant something more. After losing everything, they represented the possibility of order and safety again.
Carol held Sophia close and whispered softly, "Look, sweetheart. We're safe now."
"Yeah! A new home!" Carl leaned out of the pickup, waving his small fists excitedly.
Lori pulled him back into her arms, a relieved smile on her face.
Rick drew a long, deep breath, as if trying to release all the tension and exhaustion of the past two days.
Then he looked at Calista.
Without her clear direction and earlier warning, they might have been scattered by the herd. They could have lost people, supplies, even the livestock.
After that, they would have wandered aimlessly through the coming winter, burning through the last of their strength.
Instead, just two days later, they had found a place like this.
Inside the sedan, Shane leaned on the steering wheel and smiled with quiet satisfaction.
He had made the right choice. Follow the strong and reach the destination.
Merle grinned and slapped the dashboard, drawing an annoyed glance from Shane.
"This place looks damn good. Hope Jenson and the others already got food and hot water waiting. I'm ready to walk in and settle down!"
Daryl snorted. "Probably the first time in your life you actually want to live in a prison."
Calista felt none of their ease.
"Don't celebrate too early." She raised her hand, her voice carrying clearly. "The walls only tell us it's still standing. We have no idea what's inside. First, we confirm whether my people are there."
She continued, "Take ten minutes. Check your weapons and vehicles. Then a small team will move in to scout. Everyone else stays here and keeps watch. Until we're absolutely sure it's safe, no one relaxes."
Her words cooled the excitement, but the hope didn't fade. If anything, it became more focused.
After a short break, Calista called a few people over.
"Leah, Merle, Shane, and I will scout."
She looked at Rick. "Rick, you're coming too. We need you and Shane for the layout."
She meant their experience as police officers.
Rick nodded.
The five of them carried only handguns, machetes, and daggers, weapons suited for close combat and easy to conceal. Using the terrain for cover, they moved quietly toward the prison.
As they got closer, the structure came into clearer view.
The gray-white concrete walls rose high, wrapped in dense barbed wire. Inside, several neatly arranged buildings could be seen.
At the center stood a watchtower, tall and commanding, with a clear view in all directions.
"This place is even better than I expected," Rick whispered, unable to hide his excitement.
Just as Calista had said, it was a strong defensive position.
As they moved closer, she noticed the heavy front gate.
It was tightly locked from the inside with several thick iron chains, and something heavy seemed to be braced behind it as reinforcement.
Then she studied the outer fencing.
In the original storyline, there had been gaps in the wire where walkers could get through.
But now, every visible opening had been blocked. Metal sheets, broken bed frames, even car doors had been used to seal them. It looked messy, but clearly deliberate.
"There's someone inside," Leah whispered, a hint of excitement in her voice.
It was very likely Carver and the others.
Everyone followed her gaze.
On top of the watchtower, there was indeed a figure.
The person stood with their back to them, wearing dark, bulky clothing. The build was solid, broad-shouldered.
"Look at that build…" Calista narrowed her eyes. "Big guy. Black. Could it be Wells?"
Merle raised a hand to shade his eyes and squinted, then grinned.
"If that's Wells, then the food here must be damn good. Hasn't been that long, and look at him. Shoulders almost as wide as Otis. Hell, once I get in there, I'm eating for three straight days."
His crude joke eased the tension a little. Even Rick's mouth twitched faintly.
But Leah didn't smile. The more she watched, the deeper her frown became.
"No," she said firmly. "That's not Wells."
"What's wrong?" Shane asked immediately, trusting her judgment.
"The build is similar, but the posture and habits are completely different," Leah said, never taking her eyes off the figure. "He stands more loosely. And the way he turns his head to check his sides isn't something we were trained to do."
Calista's heart sank.
Leah's expression grew more serious. "And his gear. He's got something stuffed under his outer layer for warmth. It's bulky. Wells would prioritize proper combat gear."
With that, Calista immediately saw it too.
The man was strong, yes, and also Black. But the details felt off. There was something unfamiliar about him.
Merle dropped the grin, his eyes sharpening.
That meant one thing. The prison might already be occupied.
"Unknown situation," Calista said quickly. "Carver and the others might not be here yet…"
She didn't finish the thought, but everyone understood what that meant.
"Move closer," she signaled. "Stay hidden. Watch for any signs of activity around the walls. Also check for any markers our convoy might have left."
Using tall grass, slopes, and scattered debris as cover, the five moved more carefully, circling toward the side of the prison.
Just as they focused on observing, something changed on the watchtower.
The burly Black guard turned and called out toward the stairwell inside the tower. The wind carried his voice away, making the words impossible to catch.
After a moment, another man climbed up.
He was a thin white man with messy hair and a scruffy beard. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, still holding a half-empty bottle of cloudy water.
...
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