Prey

I stared down at a well-built, young man. His gun pointed directly at me as mine pointed back at him, covering Rick. The residents had their weapons well concealed from us like the entire courtyard had been staged to appear welcoming. But, as soon as Rick reacted each individual had a weapon aimed at our heads.

"Where the hell did you get this watch?" Rick repeated his question, his tone provoked and pressing.

"You want answers? You want anything else? You get 'em when you put down the gun," Alex screeched, this voice high pitched and petrified.

"Look, I see your man on the roof with a sniper rifle. How good's his aim?" Rick swung Alex's body around, staring up at their guard on the roof, using the man's body for protection. Alex's arms remained raised in the air in surrender. "Now, where'd you get the watch?" Rick whispered, taunting Alex with his own men.

"Don't do anything! I have this! Just put it down! You put it down!" Alex shouted at his sniper on the roof. The man slowly dropped his rifle, but his eyes still remained on the scene below. Alex took a deep breath, speaking to Rick again, "You want to listen to me. There's a lot of us."

Rick ignored his negotiation tactics, only concerned by one thing alone. "Where did you get the watch?"

"I got it off a dead one," Alex finally thought up an answer, "I didn't think he'd need it."

I could hear Rick spin Alex's body around again. "What about the riot gear?" he asked, staring down at the man that I had my gun pointed at. "Or the poncho?" He brought his attention to the blonde-haired woman with a pixie cut.

"Got the riot gear off of a dead cop," Gareth's voice caught us all by surprise. He stood just to my left. I spun around, aiming my gun at him as Daryl, Carl, Michonne kept their focus on the remaining residents. We had all our bases covered. Gareth held his hands low and out to the side, no weapon visibly on him. "Found the poncho on a clothesline," he had a bullshit answer for everything. His voice remained eerily calm, his tone almost annoyed.

"Gareth, we can wait," Alex said, his voice quivering. My ears perked up when he said that.

"Shut up, Alex," Gareth immediately cut him off, shutting down anything else Alex was about to say.

"You talk to me," Rick ordered from Gareth.

"What's there left to say?" Gareth questioned, his voice still spine-chillingly mellow. "You don't trust us anymore."

"Gareth," Alex pleaded.

"Shut up," Gareth's voice was firm now, angry with Alex. Garthe raised his hand to silence him and my grip tightened on my weapon. My index finger, hovering over the trigger.

"Gareth, please."

"It's okay. It's okay," Gareth repeated a couple of times over, his hand still raised, palm flat in the air. "Rick, what do you want?"

"Where are our people?" Rick questioned.

I watched as Gareth's eyes dialled in on Rick, his lids squinting together and sizing him up. There was a pause for a moment. "You didn't answer the question," Gareth responded. His flat palm that remained still in the air shut closed and into a first. The second his fingers had moved I knew he was giving off a signal.

Within seconds, the first shot echoed from behind me before a chorus of bullets went off. I immediately altered my aim, raising my gun and shooting at the sniper above us. Gareth disappeared from sight, using the signal as a distraction. All of their men were shouting at each other, back and forth, as their radios lit up with chatter. Bullets flew around us as we tried to group together. We fired in any direction we could, but at this point, we were only wasting ammo as we attempted to shoot out cover fire and run at the same time.

"This way! Let's go!" Rick shouted, pushing Carl along down the pathway we had originally come from.

"Shots fired in the main. Heading into the building." I could hear echoes over their radios. They had eyes and weapons appearing over each building we had passed. Their bullets were hot on our heels, the metal sparking up the pavement behind us as we ran.

"Come on!" Daryl led us around a corner and out of the main courtyard, where we thought we could escape the fire. I looked up only to spot more snipers peering out over the edge of the rooftop. Their bullets aimed at our feet, sending us in circles before we entered the garage. Just as we entered the musky warehouse, our main exit on the opposite side began to rattle closed.

"There!" I pointed to our right, sprinting across the cement floor and over to a small black door with the letter A painted on it. I hoped that disappearing into the building and out a different side would lose them from our tails, but as soon as we stepped foot out of the door the rapid-fire was back at our heels.

I could feel my lungs begin to give out, my throat sucking in as much air as I could as I continued to push myself along. We had to find an exit. Get close enough to the fence where we could lay down some cover fire and hop it. I don't know how we didn't see their manpower from the outside? We watched them for so long and at no point did we see anyone stationed on their roofs.

"Get them out of B." Another radio went off. And with that one order, I realized that they weren't shooting at us at all. It only registered when Daryl ran up to a two-way divide in the street between the buildings. We followed his lead, continuing to run straight until the gunfire switched from behind our feet to in front of our toes. We were forced to come to a sliding halt, switching our direction away from the bullets and down the street to our right. They weren't trying to kill us, they were corralling us. And I was afraid to find out where.

Running down a small alleyway, we entered a little opening between three buildings. The gunfire had settled a bit, as we were obviously getting close to where they wanted us. This area was similar to the courtyard, although it was much smaller and a lot less welcoming. As we pressed forward a horrendous, pungent smell filled my mouth and nose. We ran by a gaited area, ripped tarps hanging over the chain-links attempting to cover what laid inside. One large blue tarp laid across the pavement and my stomach twisted as my eyes caught a quick glimpse of the bloodied up human remains and carcasses that were piled up across it. My head then snapped forward as Daryl came to a screeching halt.

"Help! Help!" the sound of meek voices echoed from inside the massive train car up ahead.

"What the hell?" Daryl question.

"Keep going!" Rick yelled at Daryl, pushing him along as he ignored the cries for help coming from the people trapped within the cargo bin.

Rick led us into another building, my eyes catching the letter A painted on the brick wall beside the door. They successfully corralled us away from B and back to A. Rick pushed open a doorway, a warm yellow light glowing against his skin. My breath caught in my throat as I entered behind him. An eerie feeling igniting my stomach as I stared at the scene before me. There had to have been two hundred candles placed around the room. Most of them were on the floor, carefully placed in rings, with chalk-drawn symbols sketched around them. Each candle also had a name. And for what reason? I didn't want to know.

"What the hell is this place?" Daryl asked the question that was racking all of our brains.

"These people, I don't think they are trying to kill us," I said, drawing attention to my theory.

"No, they were aiming at our feet," Rick agreed, also noticing their tactics.

My eyes then landed on the block letter painted onto the room's walls. "Never again. Never trust. We first, always."

"There," Rick pointed ahead of us. A door on the opposite side of the room slightly cracked open where the sunlight peeked through.

Just as we reached the other side, a man from the outside slammed the door shut, locking us in.

"There," I pointed to the last door in the room. Once again the letter A caught my eye on the way out.

A soon as the natural light hit my eyes, gunfire was at our feet again, but this time it was coming from all angles. They got us where they wanted us. Now they just had to hold us in place. There were six men on the roof as I stared straight ahead at the fence line. That was our way out and if they weren't going to kill us then what was stopping us from making one last run for it?

Just as I was getting my hopes up, my adrenaline pumping through my veins as I teetered on the idea of bolting, four more men popped up from behind the fence, all of their weapons trained on us. We were trapped.

"Drop your weapons! Now!" Gareth's voice called out from behind us. We turned around, staring him down as he stood upon a low rooftop.

We were hesitant. I looked over at Michonne, the whites of her eyes darting back and forth as she analyzed each man with a rifle on the roof. I then looked over at Carl, his chest rapidly rising and descending as he stared at his dad. Carl didn't turn around to look at Gareth, scared that if he did, it really did mean that we had lost.

"Now!" Gareth shouted at us.

Daryl harshly threw his readied arrow on the pavement before dropping his crossbow. My eyes remained locked on Gareth as I placed my Glock on the ground. Still remembering that this was the only weapon they think I have on me. My knife still sat comfortably in my boot.

"Ringleader, go to your left!" Gareth ordered Rick. "The train car, go." I looked to my left, my gaze landing on a large cargo bin of our own. One white letter A painted on the side. Rick looked over at it for a moment before looking back at Gareth. "You do what we say, the boy goes with you. Anything else, he dies and you end up in there anyway," Gareth explained the terms. Ensuring that Rick doesn't try anything.

Rick looked down at Carl who stood just across from him. He stared at him for a long while. There was no way to know that if Rick went in there they would stay true to their word. What's to stop them from killing Carl as soon as Rick stepped out of the picture? But Rick didn't have any other option than to obey. He nodded his head at Carl before walking off to the left.

"Now the archer," Gareth called upon Daryl. He reluctantly followed behind Rick. "Now the samurai." It was Michonne's turn to go. Just as Michonne followed behind, Rick reached the train car and waited by the steps for his next order. "Now red," Gareth called out to me. I winced when hearing those words come out of his mouth. I looked at Carl, his eyes already on me as I walked away, leaving him behind. It wasn't until we were all at the steps of the door that Gareth yelled out again. We all turned to Carl, watching as he stood out in the open, unprotected. His shoulders hunched over like he was trying to make himself small. "Ringleader, archer, samurai, red! Stand at the door, that order!"

"My son," Rick shouted out, his voice tempered, but frightened.

Gareth paused for a moment, "Go, kid," he ordered. The breath finally being released from my lungs and Carl walked over to us. "Ringleader, open the door and go in."

"I'll go in with him," Rick responded, Carl still only halfway to us.

"Don't make us kill him now!"

Rick gritted his teeth, pausing for a moment to kill some time, before walking up the train car steps and sliding open the metal door. Rick stepped in, disappearing from the light of day as we followed him up. From the outside, the train car looked huge, but the inside was suffocating and pitch-black. My eyes took a good amount of time to adjust, which only heightened my other senses. My ears were on high alert for the sound of a gunshot as Carl made his way over to the car.

It felt like minutes before the shadow of Carl's frame blocked the only light peering into the car. As soon as he stepped in, the door slid shut behind him, finally locking us in. Rick grabbed onto Carl, holding him close. I looked around, my eyes still adjusting to the dim room, the only light peeking through millimetre slits in the metal.

A thud came from behind us, on the other side of the bin. It sounded like someone was getting to their feet before there was a shuffle. We all turned, squinting our eyes to try and focus on the figures that were locked in here with us.

"Rick?" a male's voice asked, he walked forward one of the beams of light finally reflecting off of his face.

"You're here," Rick responded. He was in disbelief, as was I. The other people stepped forward, making their identity known. Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, Bob, and four other people stood before us. "You're here," Rick said again, but this time his tone was different. Like now he knew we had a chance to fight back.

Maggie looked behind her as we eyeed the unknown people in the train car. "They're our friends," Maggie vouched for them. "They helped save us."

I analyzed each of them. The largest built man I have ever seen with fiery red hair and a moustache to match. Then a thin woman, her hair in long pigtails, wearing biker gloves, combat boots, and an army hat. Beside her was a plumper man sporting a mullet, he stood timidly. And on the far right was a young girl who I recognized, a member of the Governors army. She looked frightened of us.

"Yeah?" Daryl questioned. "Now they're friends of ours."

"For however long that'll be," The redhead responded, turning to walk away from us.

"No." Rick instantly shut his doubts down. "They're gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out," Rick said, he walked over to the door, peering through one of the cracks in the metal.

"Find out what?" the redhead asked, both intrigued and fearful of what Rick was about to say.

Rick was silent for a moment. He tore his eyes away from the outside and looked back at all of us, "They're screwing with the wrong people."