Tonight the World Dies

The cleanup is messy, and the bodies leave a wide bloody trail out of the church. We don’t bury them. Instead, we deposit them into the woods for animals to pick at. The entire ordeal has my back aching in pain, and when we return to the church for the final time, I see Abraham, Maggie, Glenn, Eugene, Tara, and Rosita stepping outside, their packs in their hands as they make for the bus Abe’s been working on. Rick has expressed his refusal to leave for Washington without Daryl and Carol, and a frown creases his forehead as he steps up to them. The group bids their goodbyes, and I am briefly torn as Abraham gets behind the wheel of the bus. If I am to leave, my time is now, and yet I can’t make my feet move.

I choose to stay. The bus rumbles away, kicking up dust, and disappears. I turn to head back into the church, and in the daylight, the bloody floor is vibrant. Gabriel is kneeling at the altar, praying, and the others sit around, sadly replaying the splitting of their group. I lean against the wall, bathed in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Michonne brushes by me, seeming to need to distance herself from the dejected atmosphere inside the church. I decide to join her. The day is warm and humid, but I prefer it to the heavy air in the building. No words are exchanged between Michonne and me, not like I would know what to say anyways.

A sudden snap of a twig in the trees puts us both on alert, our spines stiff. Michonne’s hand goes to the handle of her katana, and I reach for my bloody hatchet. A silent exchange passes between us as we tiptoe to the edge of the forest, waiting for whatever is out there to reveal itself. It doesn’t take long, and Michonne visibly relaxes and smiles when Daryl steps out of the cover of the forest. But her eyes flicker over his shoulder and her smile drops.

“Carol?” she asks, her voice like warm honey. Daryl chews his cheek for a moment, giving me a fleeting look, before he turns towards the woods and beckons out whoever is behind him.

A dark-skinned youth appears then, and that’s all. Carol is nowhere in sight and Michonne is the first to question him over it. Instead of replying, Daryl jerks his chin in the direction of the church, and the three of us head back. Rick turns as the doors open, and relief is evident on his face before being replaced with a worry similar to Michonne’s.

“Beth’s alive, so is Carol. They’re at Grady Memorial Hospital. We found one of the cars that took Beth, the one with the white cross on it. We followed it into Atlanta, but Carol, she…she got hit by one of their cars—a cop car. Ran into Noah. He got out. He knows Beth, says he can get us in so we can get her back,” Daryl explained gruffly. My eyes bounce to Rick, who already seems to be formulating a plan in his head.

In the end, Rick, Daryl, Sasha, her brother Tyreese, and Noah, the youth who accompanied Daryl, are the ones to go back to Atlanta in a rescue mission to get Beth back. I sit with my back against a pew on the floor, watching Carl feed Judith. Michonne paces anxiously; Father Gabriel is nowhere to be seen. Despite my feelings towards this group, I can’t help but feel anxious right alongside Michonne. I’d never ventured into the city, but I know it went south fast. Just knowing these people a day tells me they are smart and won’t go in half-cocked. Rick has a plan, and they will be successful in retrieving Beth.

It is hours before Father Gabriel returns, and another hour after that that the unmistakable noise of groaning makes us all stand. The dead have followed Gabriel; from where, I’m not sure, and I’m not inclined to ask. Instinct moves my feet to get Michonne, Carl, Judith, and Gabriel into the back office. I shove the bench Bob died on against the door, and Gabriel lifts up a loose floorboard. It is dark inside the hole, and without thinking I am the first in the hole.

“I’ll make sure it’s clear,” I tell them. I receive a series of nods in reply, and both my hatchet and my handgun are out. It is dark under the floor of the church, though sunlight streams in through a break in the foundation. I crawl, ignoring the slight feeling of claustrophobia, and press myself against the side of the foundation, searching left and right for any signs of walkers that have wandered away from the group.

Fortunately, the area is clear and I scurry back to give everyone the okay. Through the hole in the floor I can hear walkers at the door, their nails scraping against the wood. Carl and Judith come first, and Carl hands the baby down to me. She wriggles in my arms, but she stays quiet. I brush my hand over her soft baby curls soothingly as Carl shimmies down beside me. I hand the baby back to him and then Gabriel’s feet come down next. Michonne is the last, and then the door cracks, the wood splintering from the weight of bodies against it.

I lead them out into the sun, the back of the church still free of the dead. Once we’re all out, Michonne then takes the lead and runs around the side of the building, her katana out and ready. All of the walkers have ambled inside the church, though some still linger in the aisle, and so I help her to close the doors. As they swing closed decaying hands break through between them, cracked and grey fingernails reaching for us on the outside. Michonne and I throw our weight against the doors, attempting to push the dead back without the need to push them with our feet. It’s near futile and the walkers pile up against the door, and Michonne and I are forced to retreat, our weapons ready.

We back-pedal off the porch as they follow us, snarling and growling and reaching. Michonne takes the heads off two at once while I pop off silent shots. There are too many, and Judith has begun to wail. As one walker ventures too close, the sudden sound of a revving engine and tires squealing on grass pulls my attention away for just a moment, long enough for a walker to clamp its teeth down on my duct-taped sleeve. Its grip is incredibly strong, and its teeth are bruising. As it fights for the taste of flesh it shakes its head and I cry out at the pain shooting up my arm as its teeth bear down on the duct tape. Michonne is there to jab the blade of her sword through the side of its head just as a goddamn fire truck plows through the small herd still pouring out of the church. As the walker attached to my arm falls, I get dragged down with it. Its jaw goes slack and I crawl out from under its body. Michonne has grabbed beneath my underarms and hauls me to my feet as Abraham sticks his ginger head out of the driver’s side window.

“Get in!” he yells. It doesn’t take much more than that and quickly we’re all piling into the back of the truck. I cradle my injured arm against my chest as Michonne shoves me up into a seat and she climbs in behind me. Once we’re all settled Abraham floors it and the truck pulls away from the church, the tires spinning on walker guts.