Over the next two days, Haley helped in the kitchen while Patricia taught her how to make nutritious stews with limited ingredients.
"The children need vitamins, the elderly need soft food, and the search teams need high-calorie meals. We try to balance everything as best we can."
That night, Haley lay in bed and whispered to Gargulio, "They... they seem like nice people."
Gargulio said nothing.
He was thinking back over everything he had seen that day. The armory was on the second floor of Block B. The door was steel, but the lock looked ordinary.
The water tower stood in the northwest corner of the yard, supplying water to the entire prison.
The vegetable plots were planted with potatoes, corn, and beans, all growing well.
Children played in the yard while adults watched over them.
And then there were the people: Rick, Dale, Hershel, Carol, T-Dog, Beth, Oscar...
This was a community.
A community trying to rebuild life from the ruins, just like Woodbury.
The next day, while Haley was helping in the kitchen, Carol came over with two apples. She handed one to Patricia, and when she saw Haley standing nearby, she casually gave the other to her.
Patricia smiled. "Wow, looks like our own fruit trees might bear fruit next year."
Haley took the apple. "Thank you."
"No need." Carol waved it off casually. "You know, my daughter Sophia used to love P.E.
When you have time, maybe you could teach her a little? She hasn't had any classes in a long time."
Haley felt something catch in her chest. She nodded, unable to speak.
That afternoon, she really did teach Sophia archery.
Using a simple bow they had at the prison, she taught Sophia how to draw, aim, and shoot at a target, even though her own skill was only average.
Sophia was quiet, but she learned very seriously. "Haley, you're a good teacher."
Haley laughed. "Actually, I always wanted to compete in the Olympics, but I know I'm terrible at archery."
Sophia was silent for a moment. "If the outside world hadn't become like this, I'm sure you could have."
Haley's heart softened, but then she remembered that the prison was supposed to be a raider camp, so she repeated the script the Governor had taught her.
"Even though some bad people are doing bad things, there are still a lot of good people out there working hard to make the world go back to how it was."
Sophia thought about it. "Like Rick?"
"Rick?"
"Yeah. He works really hard. He brought us all the way here and makes everyone feel safe."
Haley did not know what to say. Maybe these people did not know what their own camp really was.
Now she felt that maybe only Rick and a few of the leaders in the prison were the bad raiders, while everyone else was just an ordinary resident kept in the dark.
On the third day.
"Yo, new guy!"
Gargulio, who had already gone through every public bathroom in the prison to scout its layout, looked up, but his hand kept wiping at the corner.
T-Dog stood at the bathroom door, holding a bottle of water. "Take a break. Rick said not to work you to death."
Gargulio took the water, twisted it open, and gulped down a large mouthful. "Thanks. This place is... much better than I expected."
"Hey, what, you thought we left the toilets dirty on purpose just so you could scrub them?"
Gargulio waved his hands again and again, stammering as he tried to explain. "N-no, that's not what I meant. I mean, the atmosphere in the camp is really good."
T-Dog leaned against the doorframe and looked him over. "True enough. You two got lucky. Not many people manage to find this place."
Gargulio heard suspicion in those words and quickly explained, "We're not raiders. We just want to survive, same as everyone else."
T-Dog stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. "Hey, man, I believe you. Though you don't really look like a football player."
Gargulio nervously looked down at his clothes and movements. Thinking he had been exposed, he instinctively set the water down and picked up the toilet brush beside him. "Wh-what do you mean?"
T-Dog, surprised, picked up the rag hanging on the bucket, crouched down, and started wiping the corner Gargulio had been pretending to scrub for ages, though a large stain was still there.
"Football players are this weak now? Look, see? Clean."
He pointed at the spotless corner.
Gargulio: "..."
That evening, dinner was held in the prison cafeteria.
Last year, there had only been Rick, Hershel, and the others. Now there were a full hundred people. Everyone ate and chatted, and the place was lively.
Gargulio and Haley, trying to draw out information, took their plates and sat beside Dale and Carl.
One was an easygoing old man who looked approachable, and the other was the son of the prison's leader.
"So you played football?" Carl asked, his eyes bright. "Really?"
"Backup on a college team." Gargulio gave an embarrassed smile. That part was true, based on his real background. "Not a star player."
"How far can you throw?"
"About... sixty yards, I guess. But that was before. I'm probably rusty now."
Carl seemed about to ask something else, but Rick gave a slight shake of his head, and Carl closed his mouth and lowered his head to eat.
The conversation at the table was ordinary too. They talked about the day's harvest and about pests found in the vegetable plots that needed to be dealt with.
No one talked about walkers. No one talked about death. No one talked about the man-eating world outside.
It was like a group of ordinary people having an ordinary dinner together.
During the meal, Gargulio took the initiative to say he could fix some things too, something he had learned from his dad at home. So he was moved to the maintenance team and would start tomorrow.
Before bed, the two of them quietly exchanged information in their cell.
"The armory changes shifts at four every afternoon. There's a ten-minute gap in between," Gargulio said.
"The water tower's filtration system is crude. If we damage the filter cartridges, it'll take them days to clean and replace them. The vehicles in the garage are in average condition, and they're short on gas."
"The kitchen has enough food stored to feed about a hundred people for half a month, mostly canned food and dry goods. They're growing a lot in the fields outside too, and the fruit trees should bear fruit next year."
Haley added, "The children go to bed at nine sharp every night, and the cell doors get locked."
They fell silent for a while.
All those specific pieces of information now had faces attached to them.
They were not markers on a map or numbers in a report, but living, breathing people.
The water T-Dog had handed him, the apple Carol had shared, Sophia's focused little face as she learned archery.
"Just these next two days," Gargulio said heavily. "According to the plan, we start causing chaos, then leave."
Haley said nothing. She looked out the window and asked softly, "Do we... really have to do it? They really don't look like raiders."
"It's the Governor's order."
"But if they find out it was us..."
Gargulio lay back on the bed and covered his eyes with his arm. "Then we won't go too far. Break a few things, cause a little trouble, and then we leave."
Haley nodded, but deep down, she knew they were only lying to themselves.
...
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